The Golden Song
The bell tower shook. It did not ring. It shivered like a leaf caught in a gale that had no wind. I woke with my hands clamped over my ears, the sound still trapped in the marrow. It was the sound of breaking glass. Not a window. Not a cup. Something larger. Something ancient. Something that had held the shape of the village for a hundred years. I sat up. The stone floor was cold against my...
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