The Golden Scar
Act I "You can’t keep holding onto it, Bertha. It’s not a toy." Kael’s voice was low, scraped raw by the damp air that seeped through the shutters of the observatory’s midnight office. The room smelled of cold iron and the stale sweat of the bronze-casting clan’s apprentices who had been working the furnace all afternoon. Bertha Hutchins did not look up from the ledger. She was forty-five, and...
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