The Faded Quadrant
The air in the Grand Hall of the St. Jude’s Municipal Building did not smell of dust or decay, as one might expect in a structure built of iron and brick in the year 1893. It smelled of ozone, of wet wool, and of the metallic tang of a storm that had not yet broken over the city. Captain Elias Thorne stood near the center of the room, his uniform pressed to a severity that seemed to repel the...
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