The Faded Quadrant
Chapter One I remember the taste of the dust before I woke, gritty against the back of my teeth, and when I opened my eyes in the dark of the surveyor’s tent, the first thing I saw was the whale-oil ledger lying open on my chest, its pages swollen with the damp air of the valley. I am Owain Griffiths, and I have spent twenty years walking the line between the coal and the sky, but I am...
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