The Golden Quest
The ink had barely dried on the previous line when the shout came from the corridor, sharp and grating like a file on rusted iron. "Ashworth. Get your arse down here before I come up and drag you out." I looked up from my ledger, the smell of the gasworks already settling into the wool of my uniform, a thick, metallic taste that coated the back of my throat. It was Halloway, his face a mask of...
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