"Anything else to add to our sparkling conversation?" Lyra asked with a smile. "Such as why are those, ahem, girls giggling at you? Is it because I'm short?" Offended, Lyra peered up at Stryker.
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“Sylphs of the forest,” I whispered. “Spirits of oak, beech and ash. Dryads of Rowan and hazel, hear us. You who have guided and guarded our every footstep, you who have sheltered our growth, we honour you."
the Forbidden Link
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