The Ras Shamra was weeping, though it tried valiantly not to. She sat very still andconcentrated on breathing as deeply as she was able. Riane sat with her hands folded in her lap. a soft Whoomp! Briefly, the fire flickered, as iffrom a sudden draft, and for the blink of an eye turned blue-green.
She ran a finger around the inside of the tumbler, put the wet spiced tip between his lips. Courion pulled up hard on his rod; the tip had bent almost double. Seeing theblack rock gave Riane a momentary start; it brought back the image of the inverted triangle, Giyan'sprison in Ayame. I know, I— He cleared his throat, which had turned dry as the Great Voorg.
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