The low ceiling began to rise; slowly at first, and then faster and faster, until walls erupted out of the hole at breakneck speed, shooting upward with a shower of plaster. They rose ten, fifteen, thirty, forty feet, and soon Anya was looking at a great tower room, wide as a ballroom and sixty feet high. At last the walls stopped, still vibrating. Ratwin sneezed at the dust. “I won’tses says I tolds you so’s,” she said. “But I will says, bravos and felicitationings to me.” Together they stepped into the room. Anya craned her neck to look around at the walls lined, all the way to the almost
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