The Faded Frontier
Chapter One Does the water know your name? I ask this because the river on the border does not just flow; it speaks, and it speaks in my dead father’s voice, a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates through the soles of my boots. I am Georgi Petrovic, forty-two, an imperial salt official tasked with sealing the final sector of the Caucasus valley before my pension is granted. The air is heavy with...
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