The Distant Whispers
"You’ll strip the mainspring or you’ll strip your license, Elias. Choose." Guild Master Halloway did not raise his voice, but the words landed in the workshop with the weight of a dropped hammer. I looked at the Great Bell, its bronze face dull and green with age, and then at my hands, stained with oil and the specific, metallic grit of the escapement I was trying to fix. I wanted the master’s...
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