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... volume of the rest of his head (like a long knife that hung down over his mid-chest) scowled at me. “Do I look or act like I care if you eat today? Reports are that you’ve been eating all manner of plants.”

I shrugged. “Only the dead ones. And nothing from any of the gardens.”

Murud squinted at me. I know now what his dilemma was; if he asked how many gardens, he knew he’d get an answer. But he also knew then that I’d know he didn’t know about all the gardens his soldiers were k ...

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