The Faded Quadrant
The bell tower of St. Jude’s did not ring at midnight. It screamed. A sound like tearing metal. It shook the dust from the rafters. It rattled the teeth in the skull of Elias Thorne. He sat on the cold stone floor. His back was against the pillar. His hands were empty. They had been empty for three days. Elias was a man of the law. Or he had been. Now he was a ghost in a house of gods. The High...
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