The Wistful Cipher
The bells in the cathedral tower did not ring to mark the hour, but to mark the end. They tolled with a heavy, iron-throated groan that shook dust from the high rafters and rattled the stained glass in their lead frames. For twelve-year-old Elias Thorne, the sound was not music. It was the sound of the cage door locking shut. Elias stood in the shadow of the nave, his small hands tucked into...
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