The Golden Master
The sky broke open at dawn, not with light, but with a sound like tearing silk, a high, thin shriek that silenced the crows and the wind simultaneously. I was driving the pickup down the gravel road that cut through the moor, the tires crunching over stones that had lain there since the Roman era. My sister, Elara, was in the passenger seat, her hands gripping the dashboard, her knuckles white....
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