The Distant Clue
The dream comes to you first, as it always does, not in the darkness of sleep but in the bright, humming clarity of the midday sun. You are standing in the courtyard of the keep, the stone walls rising around you like the ribs of a giant beast, and in your hand is the cloak. It is not the heavy wool of a common soldier, nor the polished silk of a nobleman’s wife, but a thing of strange,...
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