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Chapter 75: Nothing to It
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Chapter 77: Checkpoint Charade
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... lank, hiss, rattle, sigh—like a tired god trying to hum itself to sleep.
Every jolt vibrated up through the floorboards and into my bones, a steady reminder that this tin coffin was hurtling through the bowels of the prison with us rattling around inside like dice in the hands of fate.
I leaned back against a stack of crates, fanning myself with a torn scrap of parchment that had once been a shipping manifest.
"Remind me again," I said, turning to Dregan, who was perched ...
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