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For those who live their nightmares, so that others may have their dreams.
Never forget. Monsters thrive best in the dark.
“She has a mind and a mouth of her own. I am the keeper of neither.”
There were food stalls, and stands exploding with a million varieties of brightly colored flowers, and booths with games. At the heart of the festivities, musicians gathered in a circle around a roaring bonfire, belting out a lively tune while a female satyr sang a bawdy song about an old carpenter who couldn’t keep his wood hard.
“I don’t want bright and happy,” he whispered roughly. “I want real.”
“Be unrelenting and unmerciful in the face of the wicked dead,” Fisher said. Ren laid a steadying hand on my shoulder. “And if you should find soul sundered from flesh, order a drink for us at the first tavern you come across in the afterlife. We’ll settle the tab when we get there.”
“And you?” he said to Carrion. “You’re ready for that?” “Sure. Why not. I’m too pretty to die old, anyway.”

