The Distant Whispers
Chapter One The wadi behind the republic had flooded three times that season, each time carrying the silt of the upper terraces down into the town’s stone cisterns, but the water had finally receded, leaving the barley flattened and the air heavy with wet clay. In the lower city, the printers of forbidden books worked in the damp schoolrooms where the ink never quite dried, and Nikola Petrosyan...
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