The Golden Circuit
The boy is leaving, Elias said, his voice thin and brittle in the cold workshop air, and Julian did not look up from the bench where he was cleaning the escapement pins. The door swung shut behind Julian, cutting off the sound of the street, leaving only the rhythmic, dry click of the pendulums and the heavy, damp silence of the room. Elias stood alone, the morning light slicing through the...
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