Lucy grabbed the hand cannon, stuffing it with powder, nearly missing a swing of the sword meant for her neck. ‘Don’t, miss,’ uttered the boy. ‘Come on. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. How much he would be able to do for her. "I told you I was not unprotected. I'll take them back with me. There was something fatalistic about the letter H.
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