Breaking the EdgesAri's POVThere were crates in the tunnels, one above another, and labelled with plainly marked symbols: grain, salt, iron. I overtook them all, and my eyes were open, and my senses were alert. Somewhere in this was the truth. I could feel it, vibrating my under-skin like a caution.I paused in a cross passage which smelled odorous.It was slight, but unmistakable: bitter herbs, metallic residue, poison.My stomach tightened.So, I said, and swung off the rut.The tunnel terminated in a closed room. The way was blocked with thick iron bars etched with ward marks that were to keep others out--or in. I was on my knees and looked at them, keeping my fingers no more than a half inch above the metal."Rylan," I muttered. "What have you been hiding?"The wards were cunning, multifaceted and keen. Yet they were erected with fear, and not with forbearance. I had been working slowly, thread by thread, as I did the magic thread, which I was tying up, with the ache in my shoul
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