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Summary
There shouldn’t be a gun fight. This wasn’t the barrel. No one should be shooting helpless pigeons. He waited a few seconds, but there weren’t any more shots. He should leave quickly. Get to their meeting point. But he couldn’t help the dread creeping up on him. Everything had gone too easily. Ravka’s tidemakers had done a convincing job as the Council of Tides and no one had questioned it.
Kaz Brekker did not believe in luck.
