PREVIEW

... he edges of my thoughts, no matter how much I try to shove it away. Each morning, it’s there. Each night, it waits. But as the days pass, the weight of it dulls—fading bit by bit like an old wound.

Mischief and I dedicate nearly every waking hour to scouring the mountains for the final dungeon. The terrain is breathtaking, a vast expanse of jagged peaks and sun-dappled valleys, but the search itself is tedious.

More than once, I catch myself scanning the horizon. It’s been over a ...

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