“Someone’s parents,” he said, “have been singing entirely the wrong sort of songs.” “Cinder.” A cool voice came from the direction of the fire. His black eyes narrowed in irritation. “What?” he hissed. “You are approaching my displeasure. This one has done nothing. Send him to the soft and painless blanket of his sleep.” The cool voice caught slightly on the last word, as if it were difficult to say. The voice came from a man who sat apart from the rest, wrapped in shadow at the edge of the fire. Though the sky was still bright with sunset and nothing stood between the fire and where he sat,
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