Capital swordsman. Then blackness. Taking the direction pointed out, he rode off. “Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. Promise me.
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