The Golden Song
Thorne, you’re bleeding again. The voice was sharp, cutting through the low, rhythmic hum that vibrated in the floorboards of the palace tower, a sound like a giant sleeping and turning in its bed. I wiped my thumb across the cut on my palm, the blood mixing with the black grease of the clock’s escapement, and looked up to see Silas standing in the doorway, his face pale in the slant of...
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