The first breach of S"aven"s snow spilled from the sky, white flakes choking the dockyard. Night had failed to claim the heavy clouds, and they glowed mauve, reflecting the flickering lights from London in the distance. Several ships were docked in the harbour, unloading cargo into expansive warehouses lining the seafront. When the borders were open the roads were thick with traffic, transporting luxury goods to Londoners by special order. With the city on lockdown, the warehouses were bulging.
Roxy and John stood on the waste hill overlooking the dockyard. There were extra guards on duty, but they were distracted—or more likely eager opportunists, ready to claim London"s spoils for payment. The dock security force tended to be foreign, coming over on their cargo ships from France or Spai
