The Distant Joke
Thorne. The summons came not as a command but as a shout from the corridor, a jagged sound that cut through the cold air of the workshop and made the fine shavings of copper tremble on the bench. Elias Thorne did not look up immediately. He was finishing the final, microscopic cut in the link of a chain, a task that required a steady hand and a breath held for longer than was natural, and to...
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