The Golden Maze
The ledger of the High Priest’s household was a thick, leather-bound book that smelled of tallow and old sweat, and its pages were filled with the precise, cold arithmetic of survival. Cael, twelve years old and lean as a whip cord, stood in the center of the Aethelgard labyrinth, counting the stones beneath his feet as he had counted the hours of his father’s labor, the sacks of grain his...
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