Sect Year 7 · tenth month · night of day 3 · the sixty-fourth life: Tavrin, his first year
Lin lay down on his own cot in the lodging, of his own choice, with his coat folded under his head. When he was still, the Wheel asked:
“One night. One life. Will you turn?”
He said yes.
“Calm. Willing.”
“Mend it and let the break show.”
“Thread of Fate.”
Coll was born in the kiln yard at Tavrin, in the year the river rose to the second step of the drying shed and fell back again without taking anything. The wind off the water smelled of wet ash. He learned that smell before he learned his mother’s face, and for the rest of his life it meant the yard.
