The Golden Oath
The cold hum began in the back of Thomas’s throat before he even touched the gold. It was a low, vibrating note, like a bow drawn across a cello string in an empty cathedral, and it grew sharper as he held the chalice closer to his ear. He stood in the center of the nave, the only light coming from the tallow candles that flickered against the stone walls, casting long, trembling shadows that...
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