The Distant Cartograph
Chapter One The island of Keshi sat in the Rift like a whale stranded in a bay of black sand, its edges worn smooth by centuries of salt and wind. The ferry crossing at mid-river groaned under the weight of the morning’s cargo, a heavy barge of timber and silence. Ljubomir Javakhishvili stood at the stern, his boots slick with mud, watching the water churn against the hull. He was forty-two, a...
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