The Golden Harbor
I "You’re telling me the stone is a machine," the Guild Master said, his voice flat as a ruler laid across a desk. "And that your brother is not trapped in the curse, but merely lost in a gear." Eugene Zeringue stood in the center of the Guild Hall, the air heavy with wet wool and old paper. He was thirty-two, a harbor warden who had spent a decade scrubbing the salt from the iron gates of...
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