The Faded Root
Chapter One "You're not on the list, Eugene." The High Archivist didn’t look up from his desk, his pen scratching against the ledger with a sound like a dry twig snapping underfoot. Eugene Hoyt stood in the doorway of the church basement, the air thick with the damp, mildew smell of old wool and fear. He was thirty-two, his hands rough from scrubbing the sticky floors of the strip club, but...
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