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... the orchard’s outer perimeter and into the northwest stretch, where trees thinned and gnarled roots curled out of the earth like sleeping beasts. They marked glyphs with chalk, painted ribbons onto branches, and studied the movements of moss and insects. The air was heavier here, more still. No watchers came. Not even the faint mist trails that usually indicated their presence.
"Too quiet," Emma whispered. "No birds."
Jude crouched beside a mound of roots that had grown over a h ...
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