The Pale Shadows
The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended gray curtain that turned the castle grounds into a blur of wet stone and dying moss. Silas Vance stood alone in the corridor, his back against the cold flagstones, listening to the sound of the storm battering the high windows. He was a man built of straight lines and hard angles, a soldier’s frame wrapped in the heavy, brocade vestments of...
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