The Wistful Mountain
Chapter One Did the mountain know it was being eaten? Refugio Cabrera asked the question aloud, though the answer was already written in the ink-stained margins of the ledger he held. He sat in the administrative wing of the Imperial Mining Bureau, a room that smelled of wet chalk and stale tobacco, where the light from the high windows fell in slanting, dusty bars across the floor. It was...
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