The Last Wish
I.The letter arrived on Arthur Blackwood's thirtieth birthday, slipped beneath the door of his flat in Bloomsbury just past midnight. There was no postmark, no address—not even his name. Only the words "To the Messenger" written in a hand so elegant it might have been printed rather than penned.Inside was a single sheet of cream-colored paper and a small crystal wrapped in velvet. The paper...
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