The theory, of course, had all been of the good. Theories usually were. Now, though, Arusha wasn't so sure. She was sitting out on the rooftop garden, in the area unofficially coined 'Magic Corner', a particularly well-warded section where arts and artifacts metaphysical were kept constrained.
In front of her, now semi-transparent, floated the
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Rak sighed, nudged the sliding door open and closed with her foot and carried two cups of coffee over to the table.
"So ... "
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She picked up her coffee. "We can most likely do it, but it's going to take time. And doing it right will take enough energy that if something goes wrong our defences will be down."
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"So ... " she finished her coffee and turned back toward the house, "Let's go put the word around."
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