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The overseer’s mare was standing on her hind legs. Lune’s notebooks. Maps made of gospel, seals, devil summons. Mangled memories. Giselle’s curious ravings. The horse trotted off and Aster followed after until she was tracking the ghosts of X deck with her mother’s radiolabe. It ticked and ticked and ticked, but whenever she turned, there was only absence and cold. She hid in a cavern on a moon made of ice in the cloak the old woman gave her, rabbits all around. They were rotting away and Aster had to amputate their feet. Their severed paws made a path in the snow leading out to the horizon. ...more
An Unkindness of Ghosts
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