The Distant Legend
The gear was not brass. Elias Thorne held the magnifying loupe steady, his breath suspended in the cold air of the workshop. The tooth was ivory, porous, and stained with a dark, rust-colored residue that smelled faintly of iron and old earth. It was human bone. He dropped the loupe. It clattered against the workbench, a sharp, violent sound that echoed in the silence of the townhouse. Elias...
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