Morning Timber

At sunrise Nessa woke beside a fire, human again, wrapped in the boatkeeper's coat. On both shores, people were measuring the broken bridge supports. The work would take weeks. There would be arguments about timber and money, and nobody pretended otherwise. The child offered Nessa a new courier bag, sewn from an old sail. She tested the straps and asked where the next delivery should go. The healer pointed across the river. "Breakfast," she said. "They have been working all night."