The Distant Temple
The bell did not ring. It cracked. One moment, the great bronze tongue of St. Jude’s hung in the air, vibrating with the ghost of a noon strike. The next, a hairline fracture ran from its lip to its crown. A sound like a bone snapping in a silent room echoed through the nave. Thomas Ashworth stood on the gallery, his uniform pressed and clean, his hand still raised in the follow-through of the...
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