The Pale Tower

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2026-08-24 08:00:22 -

The Pale Tower

The mortar spat from Elias Thorne’s trowel like wet gravel, landing with a dull thud on the spiral stair, and he wiped his hands on his trousers, leaving streaks of gray dust across the fabric. He was forty-two, a man whose face had hardened into the same pale, unyielding stone that made up the lighthouse of Oakhaven, and he had only three days before the winter storms would turn the sea into a...

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