The Golden Song
The air inside the cathedral cellar was thick, stale, and tasted of damp stone and the sharp, metallic tang of old blood, a scent that had long since seeped into the very mortar of the walls and clung to the wool of the garments worn by the men who guarded this place, a place that smelled of rotting wood and the bitter, astringent flavor of the honey cakes that were passed from hand to hand in...
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