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Chapter 179: The Echo
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Chapter 181: The Second Nest
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... melled of roasted onions, hard cider, and unwashed wool. The fiddle player was standing on a sturdy oak table, stamping his foot in time with a frantic, joyous reel. The villagers of Mourn-Hold were not celebrating a harvest; they were celebrating survival. They drank with the desperate thirst of people who had spent weeks listening to things scratching at their doors.
Vane sat in a corner booth. His back was against the rough timber wall. He held a mug of cider in his hand, watching the ...
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