The Wistful Cipher
The first thing I noticed was the smell, a thick, coppery tang like wet iron filings left too long in the rain, which was stronger than the fog that had been swallowing the outpost of Kael for three days. I was holding the ledger, my father’s final account of the barrier’s maintenance, when the skin across the back of my left hand split open, not with blood, but with a viscous, black ink that...
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