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... Air scorched Kael’s throat, dragging him from the void. He jackknifed, bile coating his tongue with copper. His boots scrambled for grip on the glazed ice while his fingers clawed at his neck, seeking a phantom noose. Only skin met his touch.
"Easy." Tom leaned on his spear, a scarecrow figure against the white. His eyes were as cold as the snow around them. "You collapsed."
Kael cleared his mouth, spitting a yellow smear onto the drift. "I’m standing."
"Barely." Tom gest ...
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