The first one stopped before me. It raised a finger of baked mud and tapped my chest, right over my heart. A warm crack spread through my ribs. Not pain— opening .

The wind stopped. The earth settled. The golems crumbled into warm, dry soil at my feet. And the string— way-fay-dwt-kwm-mhkr —burned itself into the inside of my eyelids.

The first golem handed me the key. The second, the mirror. In the mirror I saw not my weathered face, but a door behind me that had never been there before. A door marked with the same five syllables.

way-fay-dwt-kwm-mhkr

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