“Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression that Cahlish was a battlefront,” I said. “It is.” “No. But. An actual war zone.” Fisher fished a fleck of floating debris out of his beer. “That's right.” “So you make a big speech about keeping me safe in order to save your friends,” I said slowly, “and then you tell me you're dragging me right into the middle of an open conflict?” “Sound like fun?”
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