The Golden Song
The train into Halloway was a slow, groaning thing, rattling its way through the autumn mist like a dying animal dragging its belly across the gravel. Elias Vance sat in the corner of the carriage, his coat buttoned to the chin, his hands resting on his knees. They were steady hands, pale and thin, but beneath the skin, a tremor lived, a constant, low-frequency vibration that only he could...
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