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Chapter 20

There were cliffs there,

And forests made of mists. There were bridges spanning the void, and that great gray blind lake which hung above its distant bottom

Like the sky on a rainy day above a landscape.

Rainer Maria Rilke

The mist rolled through the coast of Cornwall like a silent wave, blanketing everything with dampness and chill. For the first time in a long while, Mikhail felt cold. A dragon's blood runs hot, even in the deepest of Russian ...

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