It looked the same every time I asked the Nightmare for his help. I waited for the ink to burn off, grinding my teeth against the stinging warmth. Do you think they realized I’m infected? They’re Card thieves. Report you, and they report themselves. A few moments later, the warmth was gone, its ghost twitching up and down my arms. I leaned up against the brick wall and heaved a rattling sigh. Why does it burn every time? I asked. But the Nightmare had already begun to vanish into the dark chasm of my mind. My magic moves, he said. My magic bites. My magic soothes. My magic frights. You are
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