The Golden Quest
The rain in Harrowgate did not wash things clean; it merely made the grime slicker, a perpetual sheen of soot and decay that clung to the cobblestones and the high, narrow windows of the Vane estate. Clara Vane stood in the center of the library, her fingers trailing along the spines of leather-bound volumes, listening to the silence that had grown teeth over the past three years. Her father...
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