“I’m here,” Hendry said softly. “It’s me.” “Do you remember…” Alistair swallowed. “Do you remember what happened?” Hendry lifted his hand to his neck, the light of red magick once against streaking behind him as he moved. “I remember all of it.” “I’m so sorry,” Alistair said, his words cracking. “Are you … are you okay?” It was a ridiculous question. Of course none of this was okay. After a childhood spent listening to tragic tales, none had scarred Alistair as deeply as this one. He stared at the mark on his brother’s throat, where their grandmother had torn it open and extracted his life
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