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The Golden DowntownI woke with the taste of iron and old dust on my tongue, a metallic tang that seemed to seep from the very stones of the floor beneath me, and for a moment I could not tell if I was in my own bed in the damp, narrow room above the chandler’s shop or if I was lying upon the cold marble of the High Court where my father had served until his breath ran out. The dream was so vivid, so persistent,...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden VisitThe seal cracked. It was a small thing. A hairline fracture in the wax. I saw it before I did. I saw it in my hands. I saw it in the shop. I saw it in the sky. The shop was old. The air was thick. It smelled of dust. It smelled of iron. It smelled of fear. I was the keeper. I was the maker. I was the liar. My father was gone. He had been gone for ten years. Or maybe a hundred. Time moves...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful SilenceThe air in the mill smelled of wet wool and iron. It was a sharp scent. I remembered it well. We lived in the shadow of the textile works. The buildings were grey. The sky was grey. My brother Thomas was the only color. He wore red shirts. They were bright. Too bright for the place. He laughed often. The laugh was loud. It echoed off the brick. It felt wrong to me. It felt like a crack in the...0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded RootYou chew the gum. It is stale. The flavor is gone. Only the rubber remains. It stretches between your molars like a gray vein. You are in the breakroom. The fluorescent light hums a low, sick note. It buzzes against your temple. You are a detective. Your badge is on the table. It reflects a dead eye. "You're doing it again," says Sarah. She is your partner. She is also a witness. She sits...0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale PathThe iron lungs of the foundry breathed a slow, rhythmic exhalation that filled the subterranean vaults with a fog so thick it seemed to possess weight, pressing against the skin of Edmund Vane’s arms as he stood before the great anvil, the heat of the forge radiating off his back in waves that distorted the air into shimmering ribbons of amber and charcoal dust. He was a man who had spent forty...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded RuinThe glass is gone. Only the shards remain. They lie in the dust of the cellar, a mosaic of broken light. I am Arthur. I am a maker. I make things that do not break. That was the promise. That was the lie. The city above screams. It is the sound of industry. It is the sound of hunger. The machines never sleep. The men never sleep. We are fuel. We are gears. I am a gear that has slipped. I climb...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale BannerThe feast had been a lie, or rather, a necessary fiction to keep the morale of the broken men from shattering like the ice on the river. We had gathered in the great hall of the border fort, a place that smelled of wet wool, woodsmoke, and the metallic tang of old blood that had seeped into the stone floors over centuries. The fire crackled in the hearth, sending up plumes of soot that danced...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden MasterThe iron of the great sword bit into the shield of the man before me, sending a jarring shock up my arm that felt less like impact and more like a vibration in the marrow, a deep, resonant hum that settled in the bones of my wrist and traveled upward into the shoulder, into the neck, into the base of my skull where it pooled like cold water. I was not fighting for glory, nor for the king, nor...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden CompassThe rain did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the sky, a heavy, gray vapor that settled into the pores of our skin and the cracks of the pavement, carrying with it the metallic taste of ozone and the damp, rotting scent of the harbor district where we lived. I stood at the window of the small, rented room above the chandler’s shop, my hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that had gone cold...0 Comments 0 Shares 29 Views 0 Reviews
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