The Wistful Saga
Thorne, come out of that workshop, the doctor said, his voice thin and reedy over the roar of the wind that battered the shutters of the house on the High Street. Elias did not move from his bench, his eyes fixed on the escapement of the astronomical clock that dominated the center of the room, a mechanism of brass and steel that had consumed his life and the lives of his fathers before him....
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