The Distant Temple

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2026-08-22 11:19:05 -

The train hissed out of the station, leaving a cloud of coal smoke that clung to Arthur Vane’s coat like a damp shroud. He clutched the brass compass in his pocket, its needle spinning in a frantic, circular blur that made his hand ache. It was 1912, and Arthur, thirty years old and hollowed out by grief, had come to Oakhaven to collect a debt owed to his dead brother, Elias. The compass was a...

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