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chapter 10 done, working on 11

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Phillip Tarrant
2026-03-06 12:08:18 -06:00
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chapters/book1/ch08-final.md
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@@ -186,7 +186,7 @@ Professional discipline. Leave the site as you found it, minus what you came for
(*Forty silvers in a rock crevice. A death ward's signature in my memory. A bracelet on my wrist that's drinking from a well that's almost dry. Net assessment: the job paid forty silvers, cost seven in equipment, and I'm leaving with something that wasn't in the brief and wasn't in the price. The Barrows gave up more than expected. Things that give up more than expected usually have a reason, and the reason usually costs more than the gift. File under: problems I'll solve when I can stand without swaying.*)
The morning air hit me like the memory of being awake. Clean, cool, carrying the mineral taste of hillside stone and the green smell of scrub oak. The fire was dead embers. The verdenshade was where I'd stashed it. The road back to Drenwick waited at the bottom of the hill, and at the end of the road was Carter's shop and a delivery receipt and forty silvers that would keep the land taxes current for another quarter.
The morning air hit me like the memory of being awake. Clean, cool, carrying the mineral taste of hillside stone and the green smell of scrub oak. The fire was dead embers. The verdenshade was where I'd stashed it. The road back to Drenwick waited at the bottom of the hill, and at the end of the road was Carter's shop and a delivery receipt and forty silvers that would keep the rent current and leave enough to actually eat.
The bracelet drew. Faint. Steady. Patient.