The Pale Dance
Chapter One Jian Lin’s hands were deep in the warp threads, pulling the taut lines of the loom until her knuckles whitened, the bone comb with its missing teeth tucked into her apron pocket where it pressed cold against her hip. She had been working for three hours, the rhythmic clack of the shuttle the only sound in the damp room, but her mind was elsewhere, fixed on the recurring dream where...
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