The Pale Tower
The bell in the tower of St. Jude’s did not ring when the storm broke, which was wrong, for the air had been screaming since dawn and the iron clapper hung motionless, dead as a fish in a barrel, and you stood in the center of the library, your hands trembling not from the cold that seeped through the ancient stone but from the sudden, terrible realization that you were not alone in your exile,...
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