The Distant Summer
The iron bit snapped. Elara did not cry out. She hung from the saddle, her legs braced against the flank of the horse, a creature of black velvet and steam. The beast thrashed. It kicked the air. It screamed a sound that was not sound, a vibration in the teeth, in the marrow. Above them, the sky was a bruise, purple and swollen, torn open by a light that had no sun. This was the end of the...
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