CHAPTER 10
Rory made her way down Eight, skirting Spirepass, the area wedged between Seven and Eight. Farther on, towards the sea edge, was Machinist Crescent. It hugged the shore from the enclosed docks up to the end of Nine.
Spirepass was an area of domes and spires, of gold leaf and mosaic, and Rory could see its many curves in the distance, gleaming in the moonlight.
Along Eight, porticoes kept the now-shuttered jewellery shops in the shadows. The thoroughfare was deserted, save for the street sweeps. They swayed their long-handled brooms side to side in a semicircle, keeping to a slow rhythm, pushing the day’s rubbish to the street’s edge. Later they’d sift through it and keep anything that could be sold or made into something else, leaving the rest for the rubbish collectors.
The
