The Golden Compass
The needle is trembling, Elias. You look up from the escapement, your tweezers still pinching the jewel bearing, and the Mayor’s voice cuts through the dust of the high tower. He stands in the doorway, a silhouette against the pale afternoon light that slants through the narrow lancet window. The Great Clock of St. Jude’s hangs above you, a cage of iron and brass, and within its heart, the...
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