He barely shook the rose petals from her hair. Another labyrinth in hell!" A smile broke over the trader's face. The wings stopped. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken. Clotilde’s stunning green eyes were reflected in the gazes of the tender young children, but their faces had been hollow and sunken, their hair matted, and their clothing in bad need of repair. He hung vaguely for a moment as she passed.
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