The Distant Ghost
The rain did not fall so much as it was imposed upon the city, a heavy, grey hand pressing down on the slate roofs of the Old Quarter. It was a cold that seeped into the bones, a malaise that the alchemists called the Grey Withering, though the common folk simply knew it as the death that wore a wet cloak. In the cramped, candlelit study of the University of St. Jude, Elias Thorne sat hunched...
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