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... ugh for Lindarion to step forward and climb onto the saddle-shaped spot just behind the horns.

The leather grip was still there. Charred and repaired half a dozen times over the years.

"Same place?" Ashwing asked, wings curling slightly with tension.

"The southern crest. The old ridge above the solar gate."

"Long flight."

"I’ll make it."

He meant they.

Ashwing felt it.

The dragon didn’t reply. He just took two long strides forward, ...

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