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The Wistful SilenceThe mortar had set to the depth of three inches before Aldric checked the clock. It was four in the morning. The castle breathed, a slow, wet exhalation that smelled of wet wool and old iron. He stood on the scaffolding, his hand resting on the rim of the new wall, counting the hours until dawn. Twelve hours. The masons would arrive at six. He had twelve hours to finish the north buttress, or...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded RiverAct I "Put the slate down, Camille. You’re going to crack it." I looked at the half-erased school slate in my hands, the chalk dust still clinging to the grain like snow. It was a piece of trash from the old schoolroom, one of ninety-six of Marsh Hollow, but to Monsieur Vasseur it was a map. He stood by the window, the glass fogged with the damp that always seeped in from the dead volcanoes...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful IncenseThe shop was silent except for the ticking of the clock and the wet, ragged sound of Elias Thorne’s breathing. He stood in the center of the floor, his left hand trembling so violently that the glass vial in his grip rattled against the wooden counter. The shelves behind him were a ruin of shattered silica, glittering like frozen teeth in the pale morning light that cut through the dust motes....0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded DustThe ledger weighed four pounds, twelve ounces. You knew because you had held it against the brass scale on the counter, the needle trembling as it settled, a small mechanical shiver that matched the tightness in your own chest. Three months. That was the weight of your tenure, measured in days, and the ledger was the only thing left to weigh you against. Elias, you thought, just Elias, the name...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful ThroneYou count the teeth. One, two, three. Four hundred and twelve in the Great Chime’s main drive. You have counted them every morning for thirty years, a ritual of oil and anxiety that kept the gears of Aethelgard turning. The city floats on a bed of pressurized steam, a sentient industrial beast that feeds on the fear of its inhabitants. Your heart beats in sync with the central gear, a rhythm...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant BladeElias. The name hung in the air, cold and sharp, spoken by Mr. Halloway with the flatness of a man reading a grocery list. I stood in the center of the Main Hall, the blue glass shard in my pocket digging a small, persistent trench into my thigh. The room was stifling, the heat of twenty bodies and the old heating system pressing against my skin like a damp cloth. We were gathered for the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded DustChapter One "You missed the quota again, Bilal." The voice belonged to my nephew, Tariq, the strikebreaker they’d planted in the recycling level. He stood in the doorway of my workshop, holding a clipboard that clicked like a dry bone. I looked down at my hands, stained black to the wrist with the ink from the Royal Ledger, a document that bled when lies were written in it. I wanted to finish...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful LetterChapter One Did the stone actually speak, or did Vijay Banerjee simply hear his own hunger echoing back from the cold? The question hung in the scriptorium, heavier than the dust motes dancing in the single shaft of afternoon light that pierced the high, narrow window. Vijay sat on the floor, his back against the rough-hewn wall, counting the cracks in the mortar with a trembling finger. He was...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant TempleAct I The dry cold of the steppe did not preserve the world so much as it held it in a breathless suspension, a vast, felled forest of giants where the timber had long since been hauled away, leaving only the white, knobby stumps that poked through the frost like broken teeth. In the border town of Keth, where two languages bled into one another over the sound of machine oil poured through a...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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