The Distant Legend
The sword was gone. That was the first thing Margaret Holloway noticed, standing in the doorway of the training hall. The air smelled of wet stone and old sweat, a scent that had permeated her clothes for thirty years. She did not look for it in the rack. She knew it was not there. The silence in the room was heavy, pressing against her eardrums, but she did not turn to see who had taken it....
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