The crowd outside the workshop had not dispersed with the fading light. If anything it had grown. Word of the stewards’ daylight visit had traveled. So had word that the glasswright with the spiral scars remained inside and continued to work. Lanterns appeared along the towpath. People spoke in low voices. A few guild members Lira recognized stood near the front, their presence a quiet signal that the threshold was being watched by more than petitioners and enemies.
Sera barred the street door only after the last ordinary client of the day had left. The workshop hands banked the furnace to a low coal glow. The boy climbed to the small upper window and reported what he saw: Archive gray at the far end of the street, hardliner shapes moving along the opposite canal bank, and a larger number
