The Distant Blade
The soot of Oakhaven did not merely settle on the clothes of Elias Thorne; it seemed to seep into the marrow, a fine, gritty powder that coated the inside of his lungs and the outside of his soul. It was November, 1911, and the air in the mill district hung heavy with the scent of wet coal and iron, a metallic tang that Elias had long since stopped noticing with his nose but could feel pressing...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews