The Pale Altar
Chapter One Zoe Nikolaidis’s fingers were stained with the gray dust of the Old Brick kilns, twenty-three of them listed in the ledger she was transcribing, when the stone in the basement began to hum. It was a low vibration, felt more in the teeth than heard by the ears, rising through the floorboards of the public library on the Greek island where the off-season heat shimmered off the road...
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