The Distant Garden
Chapter One Jelena Munteanu remembered the smell of the air scrubber filter, overdue and clogged with the dust of the seed-library night desk, long before she remembered the sound of the spire snapping. It was a dry, fibrous scent, like old paper and burnt hair, that clung to the back of her throat in the high summer dusk. She stood now in the storeroom of confiscated goods, the tax boat’s...
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