The Faded Paradox
The Inquisitor’s Cell Faye Blount, coffin maker of the parish, wanted to break the silence of Brother Thomas, but the silence had teeth. We were in the walled city of Oakhaven, though it felt less like a city and more like a throat closing around our necks. The air in the cell tasted of iron and old blood, a metallic tang that coated the back of my tongue before I even drew breath. Beneath...
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