The Pale Altar
Chapter One Seamus O'Casey sat in the infirmary, his hands shaking as he held the glass, one hundred and nine of the Amber Stair, a relic from his father’s estate. The humidity in the room was thick, ruining the film on the camera he had brought, a bureaucratic necessity for the colonial records. He was thirty-two, a scholar of little renown, and the mirror before him was not glass but a sheet...
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