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Chapter 8: The False Step
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Chapter 10: The Weight Of Intent
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... s of every shuttered window.
Soren was two dreams deep, neither worth the memory, when the bunks shuddered under the instructor’s cane. The man’s voice snapped like a drawn bow:
"Up. Stand by beds, faces out." He hadn’t shaved, and his coat dripped icewater, as if he’d wrestled the entire morning loose from its grave.
Behind him: three strangers, faces shadowed under cloaks edged in somber blue, each stamped with a pattern of silver rings along the collar.
Soren k ...
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