The Faded Root
Act I Declan Halloran’s fingers were already black when he reached for the tincture, the ink soaking into the whorls of his skin like wet mud into a boot. He stood in the cold draft of the Ministry’s extraction room, the air heavy with dried lichen and old paper, and watched the condemned man shiver on the table. The prisoner was Seán, his brother, though the official ledger listed him only as...
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