‘Oh, my God, Melusine, what have I done?’ Melusine shook her head. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. Then, seeing Melusine’s feathered beaver had fallen to the floor, picked that up for her.
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