The Wistful Show
"You will do it," the Warden said. His voice was not loud, but it filled the stone room, vibrating in the hollows of my chest like a struck bell. "You will do it because you are the only one who can hold the shape of the wound." I looked down at my hands. They were trembling, not from cold, though the air in the Keep of St. Jude was bitter with frost, but from the sheer weight of the thing I...
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