You ruined my magik coat, hero.’ “‘That coat almost got you killed. Again. And it was as magik as a pig’s arsehole.’ “‘You’re wrong.’ She stared across the flames, shaking her head. ‘Oh, it wouldn’t stop an enchanted blade or let me walk across worlds or anything impressive enough for poor Bel to write a song about.’ She hung her head then, scratching at well-chewed fingernails. ‘You want to know what that coat did?’ “‘I suppose you’ll tell me, regardless.’ “‘It let me walk a dark street without having to watch over my shoulder. It let me step into a room and not feel eyes crawling every inch
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