The Faded Root
The rain did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the bruised purple sky, a cold, oily mist that slicked the cobblestones of the precinct’s rear courtyard where Sergeant Elias Thorne stood with his back against the wet brick, his knuckles white as bone, his breathing a ragged, mechanical rattle that seemed to sync with the distant, mournful tolling of the church bells. He was not fighting a...
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