The Pale Circus
The wall did not fall. It exhaled. One moment the stone of the Blackgate Keep stood firm, a monolith of grey silence against the bruised twilight sky. The next, a fissure tore through the masonry, a jagged scar of white dust that widened with a sound like a bone snapping. Aldous stood at the center of the courtyard, his hands braced against the crumbling archway, his knuckles white, his boots...
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