The wood of Mei’s crate barely muffled the voices of polemen.

“Who sends donations this late at night?”

“Like you’d be doing anything else. Watch it, another one of them weird barges.”

“Cups, that’s the fifth one. What are they doing out here this late at night?”

“Who cares? Let’s get this done.”

Tuning out the banter, Mei nestled into her crate and waited. They’d already made it past the clamor on Bradsbridge so it wouldn’t be much longer. Inge, currently in the crate next to Mei’s, had warned her that impatience could easily do the work of the enemy, but to Mei, waiting was a chance to listen to the world, to the waves and winds. Anyway, the spy had probably been trying to distract themselves from what was happening on the bridge, where Maggie was doing Mei’s job: protecting Dwayne.

When Mei had told Rodion about that part of her plan, the steward had rushed to complete a new steel gray and indigo suit for Dwayne, delaying their departure by two bell tolls. Why Rodion, or Inge or whoever they really were, cared so much about the relationship of two young mages wasn’t Mei’s concern, but it probably meant Inge’s crate was packed full of anxiety while Mei’s only concern was the timing of the surprise she’d planned with Maggie, and the pink-faced merchant boy.

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“We’re almost there. Brake us, will you?”

“Got it.” The barge slowed then bumped to a stop. “There.”

“What’s this?” barked a Sen Jerome monk.

“Donations, brother, from the Armstrong estate.”

According to Inge, the Armstrongs had left Bradford immediately after the Harvest Ball. Apparently, spies tracked things like that.

“From the Armstrongs, huh?” A crate was cracked open. “Honey and dried awrock meat. Off, that’ll get you through the winter.”

“Want us to carry it in?”

“We’d appreciate it. The dark mageling’s bridge party has left us short-handed.”

“Is that why all those strange barges are on the river?”

“Probably.” Mei’s crate was lifted. “I hear he didn’t even bother to ask the Privy Council if he could do this.”

“What do they got to do with it?” Mei’s crate was ascending a stairway, step by step.

“It’s their sworn duty to keep the city safe.” A door opened. “Over here?”

“Yes.” Mei’s crate was put on the ground. “Is it really? I assumed that-”

A door shut.

Mei waited. Her and Inge’s crates had been at the back of the boat and thus should have been the last ones to be picked up, but carelessness went hand in hand with impatience and so she waited.

Silence reigned the next few minutes.

Assessing they were safe, Mei pushed open her crate, climbed out, then sought another crate marked with two snow-bees. She rapped its top with her knuckles.

“Whew!” Inge climbed out. “I am never doing that again.” They looked around. “Looks like we’re in.”

“Yes.” Mei opened the storage room door and peeked out into the hall. The coast was clear. “Let’s go.”