The Wistful Atlas
Act I Nasrin Musavi had always believed that a man’s legacy was a ledger, balanced to the last penny, but the ink in his study at one hundred and twenty-six of Stonecutter Alley no longer obeyed the arithmetic of his memory. He sat at the desk, the river map painted on hide spread before him, its lines smudged by the damp February air that crept through the cracks in the salt-pan settlement’s...
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