The Golden Crossing
The file slipped from my fingers before the final bend, a thin strip of twenty-four-karat gold hitting the velvet mat with a sound like a bone breaking. I stared at the spot where it had landed, the metal curled into a useless hook, and felt the heat rise in my neck, a physical pressure that had nothing to do with the forge. Clara stood by the door, her arms crossed over her chest, watching the...
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