The Golden Cellar
Chapter One I write this from the ridge, where the wind has stripped the willows bare, looking down at the salt pans that once fed the garrison. My name is Francisco Queiros, and I am a captain of the river kingdom’s flood officers, a man who has spent his life measuring the depth of water and the width of loss. I remember the day the root found me, or rather, the day I found it in the cellar...
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