The Faded Sutra
You have missed the third line of the Psalter, Elias, and your hands are trembling, which is a sin in itself, for the ink must flow with the steadiness of a man who knows he is already dead. The steward, a thin man named Corvus who smelled of damp wool and judgment, stood by the window where the twilight was bleeding into the stone, his eyes fixed not on the book but on the shadow it cast. He...
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