He turned on his heel and quickly went out of the cubicle. But still, when it was over, he had her thrown away like a loaf of stalewrybread because if it wasn't the real thing, he never wanted to see that face again. Instead of walking past it, the Gyrgon hadabruptly excused himself, appearing in the Great Hall, through a different door, sometime later. For a moment, the two of them, old friends, baleful enemies, love and hate, loyalty and betrayal, werejoined in an eerie symmetry neither understood.
Her face had never beenmore beautiful nor more grave. Why should this elevation toGreat Caste status be anything else? The Gyrgon gave it their blessing. She tightened her grip on the blades with one hand and almost passed out again. They were standing under theeaves in the museum courtyard.
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