They entered wet to the bone, Jorge grabbed one of the two available room keys and tried to open the door in the suddenly black night. Suddenly clammy hands clasped his. With sleepwalking certainty, Magnus Jordan forced the key to turn and the door creaked open. A flash of lightning lit up the room for a brief moment, and Jorge discovered a sparkle in Magnus Jordan's eyes, or just a reflection of the forces of nature that were being held back with difficulty by walls and windows. But then he heard a voice assuring him that the spark was alive, that his friend was here with him, in this room, in this storm, in this land. "Together we can do it." The bare bulb flickered but managed to cast a dim light. Jordan was shaking again. Jorge strode across the room at a brisk pace, unlatched his holdall, pulled out a few dry clothes and a towel, and tossed them in his direction. "Better put that on," he added, at the same time trying to dry his wet locks before removing his wet clothes as well
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