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... ow told her in a low voice.
Tira followed her contact through the shadowed alleys of Elenel. She shivered as another gust of wind found its way through the narrow passage between the buildings, sending loose refuse swirling along the perpetually damp roads. Stepping around a puddle that was probably not all water, she sighed behind her mask. Was there some unspoken rule that demanded Assassins end up in places like this?
“So nothing worked?” Tira asked.
“Doesn’t seem like ...
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