The Golden Scar
Zara Tareen had been dead for three days before her body finished turning into gold, a slow calcification that began at the fingertips and moved inward like a tide of molten amber. She remembers the moment of the breach, standing in the high-ceilinged banquet hall of the Ministry, the air heavy with roasted duck and the metallic tang of the Gilded Veil. It was a boundary not of stone or water,...
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