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123 | DON'T SHOOT THE MESSENGER

Aliana pushed wispy, curling strands of white-blonde hair behind her ears with her single hand. The other had been lost to the cold, along with one foot and a couple of her remaining toes. It felt like such a long time ago, now, though her unsteady limp and the precarious way with which she leant on her walking stick made it apparent just how recent her brush with death had been.

A shiver flayed the flesh from my back, and a prickle of unease lit up my scalp. Every breath I took felt thin and tinny, making my tongue taste oddly metallic; I decided anew that I despised waiting, with my fingers clutching the thick fabric of my cloak so hard that the bones of my knuckles showed through my skin.

“You shouldn’t have followed us,” grunted Ares, when it became apparent that Aliana needed some encouragement to speak.

She looked up at him then, her wide pale eyes revealing nothing. “I didn’t mean to. I was coming to speak to you anyway when you disappeared down that corridor.” She shrugged, t
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