The Faded Guest
The dream was not a dream but a fever, a black water rising around the neck of Elias Thorne, who lay in the damp stone cell of the keep’s infirmary, his mind churning with the image of his sister’s face, pale and distant, holding a bowl of broth that turned to ash in her hands. He woke with a gasp that tore at the bandages wrapped tight around his left leg, where the gangrene had begun its...
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