Chapter Fifteen
The Mail Runner stood outside the grand gates of the University of Waeverleyne, nervously shifting her armful of packages. She was new on the job, started only last week; maybe that was why she’d been shafted with the task of delivering to the university. Everyone else had been more adept at dodging this duty.
She knew what it was she was carrying. The bulletins had been screaming about it for weeks: all istore to be turned in, for the owner’s own safety. To be consigned to the care of Waeverleyne’s scholars, who wanted it for research purposes. Well enough, but who was willing to cross Glinnery carrying such a thing these days? Remuneration had been offered, but the frightened owners of the remaining istore pieces preferred simply to be rid of them. And so, the mail. The
