She saw his face change, how he regretted. It was Blueskin. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. Enough to let her find out a piece of information most urgent. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. Everybody who’s going to develop into a woman.
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