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... elow the horizon, and the sky turned from a pale, washed-out blue to a deep, star-dusted indigo.

A profound cold seeped out of the white sand, the opposite extreme of the day’s brutal heat.

Rhys stood over the twitching, broken bodies of the Ossian Stalkers. The milky-white fluid that was their blood had already soaked into the sand, leaving dark, sizzling patches on the surface.

He used the tip of his iron sword to flip one of the dead creatures onto its back. The black, ...

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