The Weight of Cold Iron and Brittle Asphalt Under the Harsh Light of a Dying Sun
CHAPTER 1: THE DUSTY GRAY The chain-link fence rattled as the wind came off the shipping canal, smelling faintly of rusted iron and dead river water. The Elder Challenger kept his hands deep inside the pockets of his gray zip jacket, his thumb tracing the jagged, oxidized teeth of the brass key hidden against his…