The Golden Quest
The fog did not roll in from the harbor, as it did in the old stories, but seeped up from the cobblestones, a wet, gray breath that clung to the wool of Inspector Thomas Bradshaw’s coat and settled into the joints of his knees. It was the year 1904, and the city of Bristol was a machine of iron and steam, grinding beneath a sky that had forgotten the sun. Bradshaw stood in the center of the...
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