The Distant Summer
The rain had turned the cobblestones of Oakhaven into a slick, black mirror, reflecting the gas lamps in long, trembling streaks that seemed to stretch into the very bowels of the earth. Elias Thorne, twelve years old and shaking with a fever that was half terror and half adrenaline, clutched a piece of blank parchment against his chest as if it were a shield, his fingers white-knuckled around...
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