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Verity looks immensely relieved. "Yes," she says. "Yes, let's."

"I thought you wanted to leave." You're not certain if Alvis even heard your conversation with Verity, but his tone is hardening from dazed into something darker. "If you only wanted to start over, you could have…Verity, I wouldn't have told anyone if I'd known—"

"You're here because the prophecy's returned," Verity says quickly, fidgeting with her map again. "Let's not stray from the point."

Alvis has gone dead white, his light dusting of freckles now the only color in his face. "Is that what we're doing," he says, his voice icy cold.

Verity flinches, and in an attempt to smooth her map with still-trembling fingers, she accidentally rips off a corner. "Look," she says in a rush, "I don't know what's causing this, but whatever it is, I think we have to start telling people the truth."

There's a moment of heavy silence. Then Alvis breaks into wild, disbelieving laughter, turns on his heel, and storms out of the room.

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