The Pale Tower
The bell in the tower did not ring. This was the first thing Elias noted, and the second, that his hands were shaking so violently he could not hold the ledger open. He sat in the small, windowless room at the top of the bell tower, a space that smelled of damp stone and ancient dust, and waited for the sound that was supposed to mark the hour. It was the middle of the night, or perhaps the...
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