The Golden Cellar
The cellar was cold. It was always cold. Tobias sat on the stone floor. His back touched the damp wall. He held the jar. It was heavy. It glowed faintly. Not with light. With something else. A hum. A low vibration in his teeth. He was twelve. He had been twelve for three days. Time was strange in the cellar. The sun above moved too fast. Shadows stretched and broke. His father, Thomas, stood at...
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