Chapton

The candle on Chapton’s desk had burned out hours ago, but Strix had no problem with the dark. And tonight, he was ready to review the last pending bill: a foot-high stack of wax tablets on the dry subject of olive harvesting.

Wildflower

Vinnie wriggled again in his chains. “You can un-tie me now. I’m not mad any more.”

Wildflower waited. The mad side of Vinnie had only tried this trick once, but it was better to be sure.

“No, it’s really gone this time. I’m safe as long as Dawnbreaker’s in that scabbard. It told me so just now.”

Talking to his sword might not be the best proof of sanity — but it had warned Wildflower earlier. And he hadn’t tried to attack anyone in the last six seconds, at least.

Wildflower started unclipping the chains.

Chapton

He’d nearly missed it. Hidden under the “Quintennial recalibration of allocations” section, in the middle of a list of definitions:

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