The Pale Meridian
The ink was still wet on the third folio when Margaret Holloway noticed the lag. She was transcribing the alchemical inventory for the Court of the Pale Meridian, a task that required a steady hand and a mind free of distraction, yet her reflection in the mercury-polished surface of the archive’s central mirror did not match her movements. It was a fraction of a second behind, a ghostly echo of...
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