The Golden Compass
The brass bell on my collar had cracked down the center, a jagged white line running through the polished surface like a vein of dry lightning. I wore it every day, even when I slept, the sharp edge of the fracture pressing into the soft fur of my neck. It was a heavy thing, cold against my skin, and it hummed with a low, resonant frequency that I felt more in my bones than I heard with my...
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