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Chapter 32: The Gate Breathes
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Chapter 34: Crosswind
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... out of a ceiling throat. It tasted like oil and wet stone.
Light spilled from the next room—brassy, flickering. A "Watch" placard hung crooked. Inside, a rack had dumped weapons everywhere and a dummy "watchman" lay pinned under a bar. Sparks spat from a busted sparker on the bench and crawled toward a ribbon of spilled lamp oil.
"Clear," Cael said, stepping over fallen spears.
"Fast," I said.
He lifted the bar—easy with aura used like a carpenter uses a lever. I ...
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