100
Before the cry had ceased there poured with incredible swiftness out of the crevice score upon score of the metal things.
Narrator[1]
They obey me.
Norhala[1]
The lightnings bathed her—she bathed in them.
Narrator[1]
I, Norhala, am awake, and I, Norhala, remember.
Norhala[1]
I, Norhala, will stamp them flat—Cherkis and his city of Ruszark and everything it holds!
Norhala[1]
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