The Verdant Cage
The fog of London had always been a grey shroud, but by the autumn of 1882, it had turned a sickly, luminous emerald. Arthur Penhaligon, a man of science and forbidden alchemy, stood atop his balcony in Kensington, watching the ivy climb the brickwork with a speed that defied nature. It had started with a single seed, a crystalline shard he had recovered from the depths of the Amazon, which he...
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