The Pale Circus
Chapter One "Does anyone else hear the ice cracking?" Mei Huang stood in the rotunda of the Archive, her hand hovering over the shelf where the Founding Charter should have been. The air in the undersea habitat was thick, recycled, and tasted of copper. Outside the thick portholes, the river ice was loud, a physical fact that rattled the glass. She was forty-two, and her eyes, which had once...
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