The Distant Temple
Elias. Get your hands off that. I looked up from the ledger, the smell of old paper and damp rot filling my nose, and saw Director Vane standing in the doorway of the sub-basement. He was holding a tablet, his face tight with the kind of anger that costs money to maintain. Behind him, the fluorescent lights buzzed like trapped flies, flickering over the grey linoleum floor that was peeling at...
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