The Distant Clue
The rain had not stopped in three days. It fell on the black stone of the courtyard. It fell on the grey hair of Arthur. It fell into his eyes. He blinked. The water stung. He was a man who had forgotten how to blink without pain. He held the object in his hands. It was a small sphere of obsidian. It was cold. It was smooth. It was heavy. He had found it in the mud of the riverbank. He had...
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