The Golden Farce
The mountain did not care for the dead. It simply shed them, like bark in autumn, into the silent, grey void of the valley below. Elias Thorne found the first body on the third day of the ascent. It lay half-buried in a drift of snow that had turned the color of old ash. The man’s face was frozen in a rictus of surprise, his mouth open as if he had been screaming at the sky. Elias knelt. He did...
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