The Faded Root
The bell above the door did not ring; it clattered, a dull, iron-on-iron sound that seemed to vibrate in the teeth of the man standing at the counter. "Is the master here?" the voice asked. It was a young voice, tight with a nervousness that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the weight of the question. Elias Vane did not look up from the ledger. He was balancing the...
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