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The Distant WoundThe air inside the Hall of Echoes did not smell of the damp stone or the old wood that comprised its walls, but of copper and ozone, a metallic tang that sat heavy on the tongue and made the teeth ache with a sharp, electric dread. I stood at the edge of the vast, circular chamber, my hands trembling so violently that the leather-bound tome clutched to my chest felt like it was burning through...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale BannerThe rain had turned the cobblestones of the lower district into a slick, black mirror, reflecting the gaslight in fractured, trembling shards that looked less like illumination and more like wounds. Sergeant Elias Thorne walked with his left hand resting on the cold iron of his service revolver, not because he felt threatened by the damp air, but because the weight of the weapon was the only...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded RoadThe rain in the city did not wash things clean. It only made the grime slicker, turning the asphalt into a black mirror that reflected the flickering neon of a pharmacy sign that had been broken for three years. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood on the corner of 4th and Main, his coat soaked through to the bone, the fabric heavy with water and the smell of wet dog. He was not looking for a suspect....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden EchoesThe rain had been falling for three days, a persistent and grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the village square into a slick, black mirror reflecting the hollow eyes of the people who walked them, and it was in this damp, suffocating silence that I, Thomas Ashworth, sat in the high-backed chair of my study, holding the heavy brass key to the vault in my hand, feeling the cold metal...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden QuestThe rain had stopped. It left the cobblestones slick and black. I stood at the gate. My father waited inside. He did not look up. He was counting coins. They were gold. Heavy things. They clinked against the stone table. I held my bag. It was light. I felt the weight of the empty space inside me. "Go," he said. "Must I?" I asked. "Go." He did not look up. He did not see me. I am his shadow. I...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden CellarThe cellar door slammed. Dust fell like snow. Leo stood alone. He was ten. Or twelve. Time was a broken clock here. The walls were stone. Cold. Wet. Breathing. He knew the way. He always knew the way. The house above was a cage. The cellar was the key. But the key had teeth. It bit. It bled. Leo looked at his hands. They were shaking. Not from cold. From fear. A small, sharp fear. The kind that...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale FractureIn the year of the Iron Fog, when the sky above the city of Oakhaven hung like a bruised and swollen lung, the boy known as Elian sat in the center of the glasshouse, a structure that had once been a sanctuary for orchids and now served as the containment unit for the city’s most volatile asset. He was twelve years old, though his face held the hollow, aged exhaustion of someone who had been...0 Comments 0 Shares 5 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded RuinThe city breathed. It was a slow, wet inhalation of steam and coal dust that hung low over the cobblestones of St. Jude’s Ward. Elara stood in the center of the square, her fingers pressed against the cold iron of the gate. The air tasted of metal and rot. She was alone. The crowd had thinned hours ago, dispersing into the fog like smoke from a dying fire. The building before her was not a ruin...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant WoundThe last thing I did before I walked out of the gate was turn back to look at the glass. It was not broken, not yet, but it was trembling in the wind, a thin, high-pitched hum that seemed to vibrate in my teeth. The house stood in the center of the courtyard, a massive, dark shape against the grey sky, and I felt a sudden, violent urge to smash it with my bare hands, to shatter that perfect,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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