The Golden Harbor
Act I "You’re holding it wrong, Sheena. You’ll crush the wings before you even get them to the boy." MacRae’s voice was flat, a stone dropped into the deep water of the courtyard. Sheena MacBain did not look up. Her hands were buried in the sleeve of her woolen jumper, fingers trembling not from cold, but from the frantic, electric pressure of the swarm. The golden moths were not merely...
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