The Distant Clue
The rain had been falling for three days, a steady, gray curtain that blurred the edges of the world and turned the dirt roads into rivers of mud. Elias Thorne sat in the back of the station wagon, his knees drawn up to his chest, watching the water bead and slide down the dusty glass. He was a man of few words, a scholar of old things, a keeper of languages that no one spoke anymore, yet here...
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