The Distant Crown
Your hand is shaking as you grip the cold iron of the pit head ladder, the metal biting into your palm until the pain snaps the tremor loose. It is 1893, and the air in the Hollow Creek Mine tastes of wet stone and sulfur, a flavor that has settled so deep into your lungs it has become part of your blood. You are Elias Thorne, forty-five years old, and you have spent three decades digging black...
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