The Faded Dust
The sap from the ancient oaks in Oakhaven does not bleed red, but a thick, amber resin that hardens into a mirror of terrible clarity. I am Silas Thorne, forty-two, a constable whose duty is to keep the peace in a village where the peace is held hostage by the dead, and for three months I have been trying to clear the name of my brother, Elias, who was hanged for stealing the village bell. The...
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