Night Bled Dry

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Killer-Kate and Luke Lackland: 700 words.  A guard's-eye view of the Night Without Stars, and the horror of the world's meaning changing over one's head, and the strangeness of finding comfort in the sparse stony counsels of nuns.  Now comes a morning unrested and hazy, and I must home in on the Young Duke again.

Now I must see if I can catch some better sleep than usual, myself.  This week at work is going to be long and long.