The Loom of Empire
The smog of 1840s Manchester was a thick, yellow soup that tasted of sulfur and coal. Silas worked in the belly of the Blackwood Mill, a cavernous structure of brick and iron where the looms roared like trapped beasts. He was a scavenger of information, a man who knew which foreman was drinking his wages and which clerk was skimming from the books. Silas didn't have a title, but he had a map—a...
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