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... a secret only we were allowed to keep.

Velka didn't speak again, and neither did I. Aria was ahead of us, clutching the journal with both arms like a wounded bird she didn't trust the sky with. Riven, of course, hummed a funeral march and tried to turn every flickering torch into a dramatic spotlight.

"You know," he said casually, "if I get turned into a goat by the end of this week, I'm haunting all of you."

"Please," Aria muttered. "Like you're not halfway goat already ...

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