The Golden Oath
Act I Esther Barlow remembered the heat of the ring as a physical weight, a brand against the pulse of her wrist, long before the fever took the last of her strength. She stood now in the center of the warehouse store, the air heavy with wet tin and stale coffee, the fog pressing against the high windows like a living thing. It was the night of the Midsummer Feast, a relic of a town that had...
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