The Pale Echo
The iron key hung from a leather cord around Thomas’s neck, cold against his sternum even in the stifling heat of the summer court. It was a heavy thing, forged in the old way, with a bow of twisted metal that caught the light like a sliver of bone. Thomas kept his hand resting on it, a constant, unconscious pressure, as if the weight might anchor him when the world around him spun with the...
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