The Distant Temple
Act I The bells of the Salt Gate had rung for twenty-three years, a sound so constant it had become the background noise of Catriona Buchanan’s life, a rhythmic hammering against the inside of her skull that she had long since mistaken for the work bell of the rival yard. She sat in the reclamation yard of dead machines, her hands wrapped around a vacuum welder, the metal cold and gritty under...
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