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Chapter 24: Rage Magic

Suddenly, I crashed back together, sucking in the second half of my interrupted breath in the stale air-conditioned chill of my dressing room. Awareness swam back slowly. I was lying on the scratchy carpet beside a much-worn couch, and it took me long moments to stagger back to my feet, using the arm of the sofa and the cosmetics table for purchase. I felt sick, twisted around and knotted up. That magic had been powerful, and it had not been at all gentle. There was rage at the bottom of it.

I was definitely very lucky. And I was definitely in a whole lot of trouble.

There was a pounding at the dressing room door that made me jump half out of my skin. As it was, I lost my balance, sinking back to my knees and folding my knuckles into the carpet to push down a wave of nausea. In the afterglow of Faerie, of the Court itself, the thrill of post-concert energy was next to nothing. How could I have thought I was powerful? How could I have thought I was strong? I could be torn apart at an
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