The Faded Quadrant
The roof of the observatory at St. Jude’s Asylum for the Insane had collapsed three days prior, leaving the brass instruments exposed to the relentless, biting wind of the November gale. Elias Thorne, twelve years old and no more than a pair of trembling hands wrapped in rags, crouched in the debris, his fingers digging into the mud and broken glass. He was a junior apprentice, a title that...
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