The Pale Path
The mainspring snapped with a sound like a gunshot in a cathedral. I was holding the regulator, my left hand steady, my right hand trembling so badly I could barely keep the tweezers from slipping. The noise didn’t just ring; it vibrated in my teeth, in the hollow of my chest, a physical shock that knocked the breath out of me. The Great Hall clock, the iron lung of the Ashworth & Halloway...
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