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        A soft rain began to fall. Jeremy found it harder to see as the moon and stars were obscured by incoming clouds. He looked up wistfully at the Tower; this was the closest he had ever been, and now a fast and fierce storm was coming into the valley. If he did not turn back down, there was a good chance that he would be caught in the worst part of the deluge.

        Reluctantly, he turned away from the Tower and jogged to the fort’s entrance. The ditch that surrounded the fort was now lined with a thin layer of mud at the bottom, and Jeremy realized that it would soon be a full-on moat—without a drawbridge to cross—once the rain started falling in earnest. He slid down the dirt wall and scrambled up the far embankment, spurred on faster as the raindrops grew bigger and more frequent.

        Switchgrass tugged at his long sleeves and jeans as he rushed to beat the storm home.

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