At dawn on Day 43, the command wagon’s frame stand table was crowded with five people studying two sheets of rag paper.
Kezra Venn stood at the head of the table, her sleeves rolled to her elbows, her ash sounding rod resting against her shoulder. To her left, Master Joric Thane leaned his heavy forearms on the pine boards, his clay pipe cold between his teeth. To her right, Paxa Sel adjusted her brass glasses, her sharp gaze scanning the ink columns. While Fellis Dain and Yseld Arken flanked the lower corners of the table.
On the frame stand lay the open spread of Kezra’s bonded notebook. Page 013 and Page 014, displayed side by side beneath the pale dawn light.
“Look at the outer edge profiles,” Kezra began, her charcoal pencil tracing the stepped margins of both diagrams. “Site Thirteen—the broken road—is sixty-four paces north to south, sixty-four paces east to west, and thirty-two paces deep. Site Fourteen—the southern quarry bench—is sixty-four paces north to south, sixty-four paces east to west, and thirty-two paces deep.”
Joric squinted through his bushy brows at the two squares. “They look like twin brothers drawn by a stonecutter.”
“Their borders are twins,” Kezra said. “Because Joric’s work crew spent four days trimming the northeast talus apron of the quarry bench against my water-pressure level, the outer edge height steps match within half a handspan along all two hundred and fifty-six paces of boundary line. When the shifted weight occurs, the two blocks will…
