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Mya helped her mount one while a guardsman in a sky-blue cloak opened the narrow postern gate. Beyond was dense forest of pine and spruce, and the mountain like a black wall, but the steps were there, chiseled deep into the rock, ascending into the sky.
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Kring and Tikume, both pale and trembling, watched in awestruck wonder as the ancient Styric curse did its dreadful work. Then, sickened, they wheeled and rode back eastward, turning their backs on the perfect soldiers rushing blindly into chill, wailing obliteration.