The Distant Temple
Chapter One Farhad Ahmadi had nine fingers, a fact that made the handling of the powder-mill ledger difficult but the gripping of a sword easy, and he woke to the sound of stone grinding against stone in the courtyard of his ancestral home in Khorram. The boundary stones, those heavy markers of clay and iron that defined the perimeter of the property for the tax records, were shattered. Cold...
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