The Pale Shadows
Act I The slate quarries of the township had been flooded for three days, the water rising until it swallowed the lower benches and turned the sky into a bruised, inverted ceiling, and in the cold draft of the warehouse store, Olwen Jenkins stood by the window, his hands wrapped around a jagged shard of obsidian that hummed with a cold, unnatural weight. He was a border warden by trade, though...
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