The Distant Cartograph
The ink on the parchment was still wet, a glossy sheen that caught the gaslight in the Survey Office like a bruise. I stared at the line Silas had drawn, a jagged scar cutting through the Northern Territory, and felt the familiar tightness in my chest. It was a beautiful lie. The boundary did not follow the ridge of the White Peaks; it sliced through them, placing a river where stone should be....
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