The Distant Nightmare
Chapter One The north light did not set, it merely thinned into a gray sludge that coated the olive groves in a film of cold dust. Santiago Carbajal walked the road out of town, his hand wrapped in a rag that had long since stopped absorbing the heat of the iron seal in his pocket. The object burned a cold fire against his palm, a frostbite that crept up his wrist and settled in his elbow like...
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