The Golden Mirror
Chapter One "You’re the thief, Gethin," Halloway said. The gaslight in the archive hissed, a dry, rattling sound. Gethin Nash felt the grit of the floor under his boots, forty-two of the Old Brick kilns’ residue packed into the soles. He was a distillery watchman, not a constable, but the Constabulary had taken him in for the missing ledger. The clock in the wrong tower struck nine, the sound...
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