The Pale Door
The iron gate screamed against the cobblestones, a shriek that cut through the fog like a blade through wet wool. Captain Elias Thorne did not stop. He could not stop. The gate was not merely wood and iron; it was a mouth, and it was trying to swallow him, to pull him back into the warm, suffocating dark of the Keep where his father, the Lord Protector, sat on his throne of bone and silence....
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