The Golden Oath
Marceline Bellegarde remembers the cold first, the way it settled into the marrow of her bones before the gold began to spread, a slow calcification that turned her skin into something brittle and bright. It is a strange thing to look back on now, to see the woman she was, the one who stood in the rain-slicked streets of the market town, her scan gun heavy in her hand, waiting for a payment...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews