The Pale Meridian
Chapter One You will remember the cold, not the pain, for the damp in the canals of this restored marsh has a way of settling into the marrow and refusing to leave, a chill that no fire can quite reach. It was the year 1348, or what passed for it in the ledger of the Guild of Samplers, when Froukje Dekker stood at the edge of the last licensed newsroom, clutching a parchment seal that had cost...
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