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their ghostly horses and was locked in vicious battle with them. The Swift siblings had always shared a bond, but it had grown even stronger in the time since they had inherited the power and responsibility of the Protectorship of Albion. Without the need for any words, they seemed able to anticipate one another's actions, especially where magic was concerned. Together, brother and sister thrust their fingers forward and a green fire exploded from their hands, engulfing Wild Edric and his white horse.
The ghost was driven backward, thrown from his mount, and the green fire seemed to cling to his spiritual form. He forced himself to rise to his feet, his horse trotting away and disappearing as though it had never been there. Parts of him faded into the moonlight and shadows, as though the night was swallowing him.
Strangely, when he glanced up at Tamara it was without any anger at all. Wild Edric offered a charming, roguish smile instead.
"Oh," he said. "I think I like this one."
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