The Golden Crossing
The brass key did not fit, which was the first thing Elias Thorne noted, followed immediately by the second, which was that the smell of the room had changed from the usual stale paper and damp wool to something sharper, metallic, like blood on a penny. "You’re holding it upside down, Thorne," said High Curator Vane, his voice flat and administrative, as if correcting a filing error rather than...
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