The Pale Circus
The air in the Grand Hall of St. Jude’s Institute for the Preservation of Antiquities was thick with the scent of dust and dried lavender, a perfumed fog that clung to the velvet drapes and the spines of the leather-bound volumes lining the high, arched shelves. Elara Vane stood at the center of the room, her hands raised, palms open, as if she were holding back the tide or catching the last...
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