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... anished as quickly as they had come folding back into the seams of the world, leaving behind only the thrum of unspoken tension.

But the world did not settle.

The newly-forged pact buzzed like a second heartbeat in Aeryn's chest. Every step he took echoed with metaphor. Every word he spoke could twist into prophecy.

They traveled three days east, guided not by maps, but by intuition drawn to a place that hadn't existed until Aeryn needed it to.

A forest of quills ...

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