The Pale Dance
The ledger was wrong, Elias, and we both know it." Guild Master Halloway did not look up from his desk, his fingers tracing the grain of the oak with the slow, deliberate care of a man inspecting a carcass for rot. I stood before him, the heavy sheaf of paper sweating in my hand, the ink still damp from the midnight oil that had stained my cuticles black. "The discrepancy is in the third...
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