The Distant Metropolis
The iron stake shattered against the granite with a sound like a bone breaking, sending Elias Thorne stumbling backward into the wet heather as the storm raged around him, his breath coming in ragged, white plumes that vanished instantly into the grey curtain of the Blackwood Ridge. He was forty-two years old, a man who had spent the better part of his adult life believing that the world could...
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