Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. Before Wood had time to inquire into the cause of this sound, his attention was diverted by a man, who rushed past the entry with the swiftness of desperation. " "She has paid dearly for it," muttered Blueskin. . She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty.
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