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ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-ONE: Nightlight
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ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-THREE: The Weight
PREVIEW
... thirty in the morning, as expected. He took one final look around Matadero’s teleportation area and touched the driftwood brooch he wore on the front of his vest as if it might have gotten crooked in the twenty seconds that had elapsed since the last time he’d checked it. Then, he grabbed the handle of his suitcase, picked up the basket he’d prepared yesterday, and accepted.
No backing out now, he thought.
A moment later, he was in the art’h summonarium, standing face to face wi ...
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