Then she tossed down the spear and felt her belt pouch, where a small cube of intricately carved stone lay. That way she had a good idea of what was happening and what needed doing before someone came running to her with a crisis already breaking into shards. She made herself turn and look away from the boat. Throne stood, shining like its namesake with gilt, the wavy-rayed Rising Sun huge atop the high back.
Not a scrap of it. Frowning at each of them in turn, Min made an exasperated sound in her throat. Relief surged through Merana in wonderful waves. For instance, the black-coated men standing over them.
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