The Distant Clue
In the year 1342, Thomas held the vial of mercury in his trembling hands, the liquid metal sloshing with a heavy, viscous sound that seemed to drown out the coughing from the room behind him. He was twelve years old, though he looked older, his face gaunt and mapped with the early lines of a man who had seen too much death for a boy his age. The light in the scriptorium was failing, the sun...
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