The Pale Banner
The rain had been falling since before I was born, or so it seemed, a ceaseless, gray curtain that turned the world outside the high windows of Blackwood Manor into a smear of mud and shadow, and I stood there in the corridor, holding the silver key in my hand as if it were a live coal, feeling the heat of it burn through my leather glove, knowing that if I did not open the door at the end of...
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