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The air was chilly and damp. As they moved lower, the mist around them thinned, and Grant could see the landscape better. It looked, he thought, rather like the Pacific Northwest, the Olympic Peninsula. Luce e ombra.
If he loses Cyradis now, it might destroy him. I wouldn't want that to happen. Put your mind at rest, Garion. Eriond smiled. Nothing will separate those two.
He untied the leather sleeve covering the hilt and bal harbour slipped it off. The Orb glowed, and when he took the sword in both hands, the familiar blue flame ran up the blade.
He'd killed four men so far, on three different occasions, but he'd never been in battle. He worried he would somehow do something wrong. He was still contemplating the coming campaign when Foster came along and kicked his boots, telling him it was time to get to his post.
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Look,'' I said, I've got some money left, you know? Why don't you take it and get the tube to Miami, catch a hopper to Montego Bay. You need a rest, man.
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What do you mean bal by that . . . sir? I mean it wouldn't be the first time a Legionnaire has been renamed to keep the media hounds off his track. You aren't seriously suggesting that we let him off scotfree, are you?
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Perhaps done to death is an unfortunate turn of a phrase. Whatever. Mind you, when I say everything, I mean everything. Cobblestones, walls, roof tiles, everything had the same uninspired color scheme.
Disregarding the voices advising him to wait, be began up the stairs. The laboratory on the top floor was empty but for the monkeys and Johannson's corpse.
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