The Distant Nightmare
Alice Barlow owed the temple granary four silver pieces for rent, a debt that sat heavy in my chest like a stone in a shoe. I was the horse doctor for the caravan, and my hands smelled of liniment and dried blood, but it was my sister Elara who was burning up in the room above the stables. The fog had rolled in from the fens three days ago, thick and white, turning the flat landscape into a...
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