The Distant Crown
The rain in the highlands did not fall so much as it hung, a grey, suffocating curtain that turned the jagged peaks into ghosts and the muddy paths into sucking pits that threatened to swallow the boots of the two men trudging through the mist. Elias Thorne, whose hands had begun to tremble with the subtle, relentless palsy that was slowly robbing him of his precision, tightened his grip on the...
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