The door flickers briefly into a tent flap, that is pulled back to reveal a battalion encampment before being blocked by the woman stepping through. She is dressed in a rider's leather breeches and what might be a loose fitting tunic on a man, but is pulled taut against her adequate bosom. Her skin is pale, and her shoulder-length hair is stark
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"No, nobody is going to hurt me," she repeats matter-of-factly. That was never in question. What was in question was which ones of these people would try.
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It's not as though she required them, anyway.
"Very well. Explain."
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In other words, what Kitai heard out of all of that was Okay ... nobody really knows why ... I don't know how it actually works.
"Am I a prisoner here?" she asks carefully.
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"It is there. Where does it lead?"
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"I entered through a tent, not a door."
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"What sorcery is this?" she asks angrily.
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"Apparently it does," she says over her shoulder. "Thank you."
Then she slips back through.
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