
Stepping off the trapdoor, I knocked again. Still no answer. “Fuck it,” I muttered, tapping my keyring against the door. To my surprise, it worked, and the door unlocked with a soft click that made me jump. I hadn’t quite expected that to work; surely the Irishman’s lair would have some kind of defense against magic, right? I turned the knob and pushed the door open. “Anybody home?” I called into the dark quiet. “Don’t skewer me or anything.” Irish’s trailer was a tired old single-wide. Enough light filtered in from the fluorescent lamps outside to see my way...






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