Chapter 3 · free to read
Peace on this river has always been a length of rope and an agreement about what it means.
Silt that colour comes off the bed, not the bank. Something had gone into the weir hard enough to lift the floor of it.
Nobody in that hall was afraid. That was the thing Malai would think about all night. Two hundred spears had stopped and the regent was not relieved — she was counting.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.