The Wistful Cipher
The dream was not of flight, as it had been for the last thirty years, but of falling into a well that had no bottom, a vertical shaft of darkness where the air tasted of copper and old, wet earth, and in that fall, Elias Thorne saw the face of his brother, Julian, not as a child with scraped knees and bright, terrified eyes, but as a man in a suit of black wool, standing on the edge of a...
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