The Pale Tale
Chapter One Lammert Mulder had always known that the ground beneath the canals of Zundert did not settle, it remembered. He stood in the mud of the survey line, the horn-paned lantern in his hand casting a sickly, amber glow against the wet slate of the bridge abutment, waiting for the foreman to stop shouting. The air was heavy with rotting reeds and coal dust, a physical weight that pressed...
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