The Golden Mirror
The carriage wheels, rusted to the color of dried blood, ground against the loose gravel of the abandoned railway spur, a sound that echoed like the dry cracking of old bones in the silence of the heath. Elias Thorne, a boy of twelve with eyes that held the peculiar, unblinking stillness of a deep well, sat in the back, his knees drawn up to his chest, while his older sister, Martha, leaned...
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