You remember him. Suddenly, miraculously, Horolaggia was gone, vanished. It turned its head, and she saw that it was not a cthauros at all but a narbuck. What is the point of that? More thorns popped out of the strands, growing, so many that Riane could not evade them.
Her voice was no more than a strangled whisper. It was as if the very lifeforce was being drained out of her, and she grew even more terrified. She turned to regard Riane over her shoulder. I should report you.
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