The Pale Altar
The stone in Magistrate Vane’s office weeps. It is a thin, briny film that gathers in the mortar, a silent accusation rising from the foundation of the city. You watch it bead, your eyes narrowed, your hands clasped behind your back. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, an inspector of the City’s Moral Integrity, and you have come here to prove that you are clean. You have come to clear your name...
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