The morning bell from the High Terraces didn’t chime so much as shudder through the river fog, its tone muted by the heavy autumn drizzle that had turned Lowbank’s gutters into yellow foam. Pella Rook knelt by the iron grate outside the old Ferry Depot. She scraped grease-caked coal grit from her boot soles with a flat brass spatula before she touched the dry floor of the workshop.
Beside her, Senior Municipal Engineer Korr Var unrolled a stiff linen warrant across the corner of an upturned cart hauling crate. The document bore the heavy, oily purple mark of Councilor Elna Vesk’s office, co-signed with the acidic, vinegary tang of fresh dark oak-ink. It was a check writ under Section Fourteen of the Municipal Works Code, granting four approved test judges unhindered entry to the foundation chambers of the Great Sluice Crown.
“Sorell’s wardens will argue the gate,” Korr said without looking up, his calloused thumb pinning the paper against the damp river wind. He adjusted his brass-rimmed glasses. He wiped a smear of river water drops from the thick lenses with a dry flannel patch. “They will cite academy safe hall and ancient charter privileges. Let them read the third clause. If the river hits eighty thousand gallons a minute at Gray Reach, academy privilege doesn’t supersede a collapsed foundation.”
