Alayna

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“Okay,” said Marcia. She grabbed a sprig of rosemary from behind her ear and ran it down the seam between the gates, murmuring something under her breath. The gates sprang open, nearly dumping me on my face as I found myself without anything to hang onto.
Alayna
Scentless magic.
The Unkindest Tide (October Daye, #13)
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