The Pale Fracture
Act I "Tithe due: Four hundred silver marks. Debtor: Ewan MacIntyre. Status: Detained." The parchment smelled of wet wool and iron, the same dry, preserving cold that hung over the valley, sealing the eighty-four of the Old Brick kilns in a state of suspended decay. Mhairi MacIntyre read the line twice, her fingers tracing the ink until the paper tore slightly, a small, ragged wound in the...
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