It happened on a bridge.

Captain Rhaem Calder stood with one boot braced against cracked stone, the river rushing beneath him in restless, uneven currents. The enchantment woven into the bridge—meant to regulate weight and flow—glowed faintly, like a lantern running out of oil. It had been designed for certainty. It had no answer for negotiation.

“It’s always let wagons through,” the merchant snapped, face flushed, fingers clenched around the reins.

“And it always answers ...