The Golden Quest
The brass key in Elias Thorne’s hand was cold, a cold that seemed to seep through his leather palm and settle in the bones of his wrist, a sensation that had grown sharper since the first frost of November and which the county heating system did nothing to alleviate. He stood alone in the center of the Harrow County Town Hall, a building that smelled of damp plaster and old tobacco, its...
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