The two halves of the letter remained in Vespera Morcant’s pocket when she entered the northern freight depot.
Rhydian Arkwright had not asked her to come.
At twelve ten, the lodge relay had received notice that the Roarke allotment was suspended pending reassignment. At twelve fifteen, a depot clerk had requested Rhydian’s authority to release the supply to another territory.
Vespera had been standing beside the lodge window when she said, “I should see what happens.”
Rhydian had answered, “Then bring your food.”
She now sat on a crate near the depot’s heated dispatch booth with the second breakfast bowl balanced on her knee.
She had eaten half.
The freight floor smelled of timber pallets, machine oil, and preservative salts. Workers moved sealed containers away from the bay marked
