The Pale Dance
Chapter One "Can a man be innocent of what he cannot stop?" I asked the magistrate, though I knew the question was a trap. The air in the council hall was cold, sharp with the scent of wet wool and the metallic tang of fear. Outside, the gritters had been out before dawn, scraping the ice from the cobblestones, their rhythmic scraping a sound that had entered my bones during the long winter. I...
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