The Pale Bonsai
The air in the Chamber of Whispers did not move, for it was not air at all but a suspended viscosity of pale gold light that smelled of ozone and crushed lavender, a sensory contradiction that would have driven a sane man from the modern world to immediate madness, yet Sir Aldous Thorne, who had served in the Royal Garrison for forty years before his eyesight failed him in the field and his...
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