The Golden Quest
The train did not stop. It simply continued, sliding through the gray mist that clung to the valley like a wet wool blanket. Elias Thorne stood at the back of the third-class carriage, his hand resting on the cold iron railing. He was not a man who belonged to the industrial age, though he wore its clothes. His coat was a heavy, dark thing, practical and ill-fitting, concealing the strange,...
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