The Distant Crown
The file slipped from Elias Thorne’s grip and clattered onto the workbench, a sharp, metallic scream that cut through the low, persistent hum of the mist. He did not pick it up. He stared at the Great Bell’s escapement, a complex web of brass gears and iron levers that looked less like a machine and more like a trapped insect. The mist outside the workshop window was thick today, a grey slurry...
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