The Faded Chronicle
Chapter One Yiannis Doukas’s hands were already deep inside the chest of the great clock when the first shiver of the winter wind rattled the shutters of his workshop at forty-seven of Corvid Lane. He was not looking for the fault; he was listening for it, a sound so faint it existed only in the gap between the tick and the tock, a hesitation of three degrees that had been growing since the...
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