The Golden Master
Act I "Did you count the steps?" Elara asked, her voice low, cutting through the hum of the ventilation fans that rattled like loose teeth in the ceiling. Sari Nurdin did not look up from the desk. He was forty-five, a senior archivist at the Imperial Library, and his hands, usually steady enough to handle parchment brittle as dried skin, were trembling slightly as he adjusted the magnifying...
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