At dawn, the water in Red Hollow’s reservoir was the color of a clean blade.
Iven stood at the edge while the station crew raised the repaired sluice gate. The reserve pump had run overnight. With the damaged bridge line isolated, the pressure in the lower branch was steady but reduced. The keeper, Davet, had marked the level on a board and intended to keep marking it until the bridge line was repaired.
Orla checked the figures before they left. She had slept in her clothes and looked as if she would happily arrest the sun for arriving too soon.
“The reservoir loses this much with the lower branch shut,” she said, pointing to the marks. “The outpost draws upstream. I want its rate measured before we make any claim about the channel.”
Mara handed her a cup of tea. “I want to find out who sent armed men after a council shipment.”
“You can do both.”
“I intend to.”
Annet came out of the station carrying her instrument case and a new length of fuse wrapped around a wooden card. Iven looked at it.
