Session 4 — Eight months of Tuesdays

Paper trail day. Sela Marsh's inspection logs are immaculate — too immaculate; every entry the same hand, same ink, batches of four. Old Marla sold the party wolfsbane and unasked-for advice: “the mine isn't holding something IN, dears.” Night watch on the chapel: Brother Edrin left at moonset with a hooded lantern and came back at dawn with wet boots and dry robes. Nobody slept well after that.