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PREVIEW
... ing to an accompaniment of cheers from the ground below. The breeze carried the sound of hundreds of jubilant voices and the smells of roasting meat and sweet pies. A little girl, no more than five or six, sprinted past us, her face red and her grin growing wider with each step. Right behind her, a one-eyed man—a fresh scar, from the war no doubt—laughed as he gave chase.
A smile tugged at my lips as the Dicathian adventurer scooped the girl off her feet, eliciting a delighted squeal ...
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