The Distant Temple
Chapter One The wind off the Shingle Sea did not care for the dignity of stone, only the erosion of it. Aisha Rustom arrived at the gates of St. Jude’s monastery on a Tuesday, her boots caked in the red clay of the lowlands, her breath hitching in a rhythm that was less a pause and more a failure. She was a bonded scribe, a woman of ink and parchment, yet she carried the weight of a thief’s...
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