The Faded Dust
Chapter One "You have until the solstice, or the Guild takes the kiln," the Councilor said, his breath fogging in the cold air of the workshop. Kadru Eland did not look up from the glass he was shaping. The molten gather glowed an angry orange, a sun trapped in his tongs. He was forty years old, a master glassblower in the border town of Oren, a place where the tundra pressed against the stone...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews