The Golden Song
The blade hummed. It was a low, metallic vibration that traveled up the steel and into the marrow of Elias’s forearm. He stood in the center of the marble floor, the sweat cooling rapidly on his brow. The air in the Grand Hall was still, thick with the scent of old wax and ozone. Across the chamber, Commander Halloway waited. His face was a mask of polite indifference. He did not draw his...
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