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Page 33
Chapter Three
Harsh musical notes pealed in the distance, as though from the hunting horn in a comedy Lemoncake had recently filmed.
In response, Mariah heard a soft, miserable groan. She tried to open her eyes to determine its source, for it sounded as though someone needed help.
Her eyelids were too heavy to budge.
Heat suffused her body, as though she were covered with a wool blanket under the hot sun, yet she could not move to throw it off.
Instead, she let herself fall limp. She needed to sleep some more.
"Miss!" A sharp voice penetrated her lethargy. "Are you injured?"
There was another groan, and Mariah realized it came from her. With an effort, she blinked.
A terrible bright glare stung her vision, and she gasped, shutting her eyes once more.
"What ails you, miss?" came the voice again, now tinged with impatience.

 
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