The Stone-Keeper of Blackwood Quarry
Act I William Blackwood found him on a Tuesday in October, curled against the face of the quarry where the rain had washed the clay bare. He was no older than two, wrapped in a rough wool blanket the color of dried blood, his skin the shade of wet slate. William, who had been inspecting a seam of limestone, saw the child and stopped so abruptly that his hammer slipped from his fingers and...
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