PREVIEW
... o the tinny chime of a card anchor alarm.
Groaning, he rolled over. Through bleary eyes, he saw a small light pulsing by his bed. His new alarm stone.
Horatio groaned from the next cot over. “I hate you.”
Arthur kind of hated himself, too.
He reached over and pressed one finger against the stone. It silenced immediately and Arthur had to fight the urge to close his eye and fall asleep.
From the deep, rhythmic breathing on the other side of the room, Horati ...
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