The Distant Cartograph
Chapter One Eilir Wynn stood in the yard behind the union hall, watching the snow melt into the black slurry of the coal cellar drains, the water rights of the valley already dry in the pipes before the winter had even settled its weight on the slate roofs. He held the water-stained map in his hands, the paper trembling not from the cold but from the sudden, visceral certainty that the ink was...
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