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  • Mary Watson

Girls in the Wood

...it was hard to believe there wasn't something. An unnameable, unknowable magic that pulsed, touching lightly and leaving things subtly altered. 


And I could feel it, the changed air, the sense of something other that curled between us like smoke. I looked over at the others: the near rapture on Sibéal's face and the intense concentration on Aisling's


Whatever it was, this magic pooled in the nemeta. And its expression was our talents.  

The Wren Hunt p41


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