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... as he gazed at the grass puppet, maintaining its patrol rhythm.

"I must reward you generously!"

He made up his mind and called the grass puppet over, feeling around inside and retrieving a few broken spirits. Pausing briefly, he took out another one and, together, inserted them into the gray grassy lump on the puppet's massive head.

Instantly, his focus converged on the puppet.

"Guard the spiritual field!"

"Guard the spiritual field!"

...

...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

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