The Distant Joke
Thorne. The name was not spoken in the dream, but it hung in the air like a debt, heavy and unpayable, vibrating in the stones of the tower that Elias Thorne knew as well as he knew the lines on his own face. He woke with the taste of dust on his tongue, the cold of the winter of 1342 seeping through the rushes on the floor, and the specific, grinding pain in his lower back that had become his...
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