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Raraku had risen

To claim a shattered warren

The Wickan warlocks had knoas coht was iher than any other feature this side of the escarpathered

To ahat could be their annihilation

The north sky was awind thrashed through the palms around the oasis

Then the sound reached the, of water, cascading, foa across the vast desert

The Holy Desert, it seehosts and dead cities Lostara Yil stood near the Adjunct, ignoring the baleful glares Tene Baralta continued casting her way Wondering… if Pearl was on that high ground, standing over Sha’ik’s grave… if that ground was in fact high enough

She wondered, too, at what she had seen these past ht and mysterious, visions that could still chill her blood if she allowed theons Murdered gods Warrens of fire and warrens of ashes

It was odd, she reflected, to be thinking these things, even as a raging sea was born fro all in its path

Odder, still, to be thinking of Pearl She was hard on him, viciously so at times Not because she cared, but because it was fun No, that was too facile, wasn’t it? She cared indeed

What a stupid thing to have let happen

A weary sigh close beside her Lostara scoithout turning ‘You’re back’

‘As requested,’ Pearl murmured

Oh, she wanted to hit him for that

‘The task is… done?’

‘Aye Consigned to the deep and all that If Tene Baralta still wants her, he’ll have to hold his breath’

She looked then ‘Really? The sea is already that deep?’ Then we’re -

‘No High and dry, actually The other way sounded more… poetic’

‘I really hate you’