The Golden Crossing
The bell did not ring. It cracked. It happened at the stroke of noon, a sound like a knuckle breaking inside a cathedral of glass and iron. The Great Bell of Oakhaven, the iron heart that had beaten for the town for three centuries, split down the center with a shriek that tore the sky. Dust poured from the belfry, a grey snow that settled on the cobblestones, on the hems of the market women’s...
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