The Distant Machine
The bell had not rung in forty years. Thomas stood in the courtyard, mud caking his boots, the iron gates banging behind him like the jaws of a starving dog. He was an exile here, a man who had crossed the sea to escape the silence of his own name. Now he sought the source of that silence. The city of Oakhaven was not the place of his birth, but it was the place of his debt. He carried no...
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