The Pale Banner
The bell did not ring. It cracked. That was the first thing you noticed, the sound of the great bronze throat splitting like a dry log, followed by the silence that rushed in to fill the hollow where the sound should have been. You were standing in the gallery of St. Jude’s, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and old stone, when the tower shuddered. The people below looked up, not with...
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