The Faded Masquerade
Chapter One The harbor groaned under the weight of the midsummer rain, a cold, March-like deluge that turned the mangrove mud into a slurry of crabs and silt, while the chains of the pulleys shrieked in the airlock like a warning. Mona Salem stood on the wet planks of the maintenance deck, her forty-two of the Salt Gate etched into the rusted railing beside her, a number she had long since...
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