The Pale Altar
The banquet hall of the White Cliffs Inn was a cavern of whitewashed stone and suspended tallow, a place where the air hung heavy with the scent of roasted goose and the damp, metallic tang of the sea that crashed against the cliffs below, and it was here, in the center of this noisy, sweating congregation of fishermen and their wives, that Elara sat at the head of the table, not as a guest of...
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