The sky outside was the grey of an Alban sea, the clouds gathering in a looming mass that hovered, waiting to strike. I was put in mind of the Master of the Straits every time I looked at it, and my heart beat the faster for it. Imriel and I had taken up refuge in a corner of the clinic; I hoped we would be able to sleep on the floor in Greg's room
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I stopped before the door and braced myself. Fast and thorough, Phedre, I told myself, and pushed the door open.
The wind was like a driving fist, pushing me this way and that as I tried to walk. One moment I was pushing with all my might against it; the next it switched and was pushing me along so fast I thought I would lose my footing. This was going to be far harder than I'd thought.
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