Page 107 of Zenith Tower

“That he kept every letter Delphine sent him. He still has the one warning him away from Zenith Hall.”

My grip tightened on the rope.

“Does he know she’s alive?”

“We know she entered the Tower. We’ve had nothing from her since.”

“She’s alive.”

The courier stumbled.

Only half a step. He recovered before the crate struck the ground, but the patrol steward had already turned toward us.

“Stop,” the steward ordered.

Every worker on the platform went still.

The courier released his handle and straightened. I lowered my end without haste.

The steward approached, one hand resting beside the whistle at his belt.

“What happened?”

“My boot slipped,” the courier said.

The steward looked down. The stone was damp from the mist, but so was every inch of the platform.

“Open it.”

The courier cut the rope and lifted the lid.

Inside lay wrapped blocks of soap packed in straw. The steward removed two, broke the waxed paper around a third, and drove his fingers through the packing beneath it.

Nothing waited there.

I kept my breathing even. The courier watched the ruined wrapping with the mild annoyance of a laborer who would have to repair it.

“New workers don’t unload the lower route,” the steward said.

“The foreman assigned me.”

“Name?”

“Bennet.”

The steward looked toward the inventory desk. The foreman was still occupied with the clerk and the broken seal.

“You’ll wait here while I confirm it.”

He took two steps away.

The delivery bell rang from inside the mountain.

A second cart emerged from the tunnel behind the inventory desk, drawn by two workers and loaded high with sacks. The clerk began shouting before its wheels cleared the door. No space had been made for another delivery, and the first cart blocked the turn.

The courier was already lifting the soap crate before the foreman shouted. He had been waiting for this delivery.

The foreman shouted back.