The Faded Quadrant
Elias, come down here at once. The voice of Master Aldous did not rise in volume, but it carried the specific, brittle weight of a man who had spent forty years measuring grams of arsenic and ounces of patience, and it cut through the damp silence of the cellar with the precision of a scalpel. Elias, twelve years old and small for his age, wiped his hands on his apron, which was stained with...
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