CH584 · Rewrite
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Chapter 584: The Estuary

Nearly four months away, and Border Town felt different.

Lotus noticed it first on the Redwater Bridge, the way she always did — something in the scale of things that hadn’t been there before. The town expanded without pausing for weather. Even the heavy snows of winter had not stopped it. Below the bridge now, the south-bank factories arrayed themselves in neat squares, and the dock area across the water had grown several times over. Concrete-hulled boats trailed black smoke up and down the river in such numbers that the glittering surface was almost hidden beneath them.

“It’s much more crowded than Sleeping Island,” Honey said, leaning over the railing to look down. “All those people — they look like ants.”

“They do,” Lotus agreed.

She had thought the bridge was wasteful when they built it — too wide, too much material. Now she understood. Roland had known what he was building toward.

Occasionally someone on the bridge looked up at them, curious about their clothing. In any other city, a glance like that would have had Lotus mapping her exits. Here, she just looked back.

There was more that couldn’t be seen from a bridge. The heating systems that kept rooms warm through winter. The electric lamps that held the dark at arm’s length. Ice cream. Evelyn and Candle could talk about these things for an entire day. But what surprised Lotus most was none of that.

The biggest change was the relationship between witches and ordinary people.

She had seen it in Evelyn’s tavern.

The Witch Union had funded the place; Evelyn ran it, managed it, tended bar — serving the fine blended wines she produced to visitors from across the Western Region. The idea of witches spending savings on a business rather than hiding them under floorboards had been His Majesty’s. Lotus had sat with Wendy over two glasses of pale green apple wine — clear enough to see through the crystal — and found it lighter and more aromatic than anything she’d had on Sleeping Island. The room itself was nothing like an ordinary pub: the floor was clean, the tables set properly, the guests arranged in their seats without shouting at each other. It would not have read as a pub at all, except for the row of barrels behind the counter.

Evelyn stood there talking to her guests, and nobody remarked on what she was.

Many of the foreign merchants had come specifically out of curiosity. Lotus watched Evelyn smile with a freedom she had rarely seen in her, and knew she meant it. Before Lotus had left, most of the witches’ activities had been confined to the castle district, and they had moved through the town under the protection of bodyguards. Now they were folded into every part of city life.

One season. That was all it had taken.

She thought about what Wendy had told her during their evening together, and understood why the witches of the Union worked so hard. They were not building Neverwinter for Roland. They were building their own home.

“Let’s go,” she said to Honey. “If everything holds, we’ll finish the estuary today.”

“Yay!”


When the last piece of rock sank into the ground, Lotus pressed her sleeve across her forehead and breathed out.

“You really made a road through the mountain,” Honey said, applauding.

From the treetops above them, the row of birds Honey had collected along the way burst into song.

“Of course,” Lotus said. “There’s nothing I can’t do.”

The rock layer here had been much deeper and harder than the reef formations around Sleeping Island — more resistant, more unforgiving, requiring more precise work. But Roland’s plan had not asked for the whole mountain to be flattened. He only needed a passage wide enough for five or six carriages to move abreast. Recalling the iron bridge, she no longer thought of such width as waste.

The approach she’d settled on was gradual: sink the ground in stages until the hillside became a gentle slope, running from forty meters above sea level down to the coast. She had pressed the surface rock flat while she worked, smooth enough that rain would run off it cleanly without pooling.

Standing at the crest now, she could see the golden shallows and the blue sea at the bottom, and feel the cool breeze coming up the slope carrying salt.

“Did you bring fire?” Honey bounded toward her.

“No. Why?”

“Roast fish!” Honey grinned. “You could drive them to the surface, and if we don’t have fire we could just dry them in the sun for two days—”

The birds above them erupted into louder, cheerful noise.

“Absolutely not,” Lotus said flatly. “I refuse to smell dried fish on a road I just built. And haven’t you had enough? You ate fish constantly on Sleeping Island.”

“I thought it was quite good, actually.”

“Putting fish out to dry is banned here. His Majesty doesn’t like the smell either.” She paused, thinking of Ashes, who had survived on fish soup for months on the island. “His Majesty says he plans to build a harbor. That way Lady Tilly can come by ship whenever she wants, instead of the hot air balloon.”

At the mention of Tilly, Honey went still with a kind of pure, uncomplicated longing that only she was capable of.

“So — will she come?”

Lotus patted the girl’s hair — soft and perpetually wild. “I don’t know. But the church war is coming, and she’ll want to help her brother.”

That wasn’t the whole truth, and Lotus knew it. The situation with the Bloodfang Association and Heidi Morgan made everything uncertain. She had not liked the combat witches and their posturing, back when that prejudice had been easy to carry. Now it seemed thin and a little embarrassing. After she’d set it aside, she’d found they were not so different — she and Iffy had even managed brief, actual conversations.

Whether Tilly could bring the combat witches to heel was another question.

“That’s great!” Honey said, already somewhere else in her mind, imagining the reunion.

Lotus said nothing. The girl understood nothing about war, and Lotus did not see the point of explaining it to her. She did wish, though — quietly, with more feeling than she usually let herself have — that Lady Tilly would come. That she would stay.

Then the wish she had made in winter would come true: all of them, together, in this place they were building.

All of us. Living here.

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