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... eath, the distant tower seemed to recede rather than draw closer. Bristle ran beside me, tongue lolling, panting hard as his paws scattered molten sand—each stride leaving only faint, half-formed impressions that the heat quickly erased.

The thing behind us did not relent. It coiled, surged, and leapt, each pulse through the ground sending up another eruption of blistering air. And it was closing in.

The air shimmered, wavering like a veil of glass. One quick glance over my shoul ...

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