The Golden Downtown
The candle guttered, casting long, trembling shadows against the damp stone of the cellar, and Elias Thorne counted the drops of the golden liquid into the crystal vial, one, two, three, a rhythmic clicking that sounded like small bones breaking against the silence of the room. He was thirty-two, a physician of modest renown in the surrounding counties, yet here he was, hunched over a table of...
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