Silver Ink
By Iyana Jenna
South Ireland, 1600
“Come on, lad. I haven’t got all day. Fetch me the inkpot from the glass shelf over there. Here is the key.”
Killian O’Briain might only be an altar boy but he knew the ink in that bottle was not mere ink. It was silver and used by Father Conley only for official letters. Working inside the monastery taught Killian two more things about the ink. Two things that made it special: no one could deny or change what had been written with the ink, and the inkpot where it was stored made it last for an infinite time. No one save those inside the monastery like him knew about those secrets. Yet Killian wasn’t one to spread a word of any of the secrets. He wouldn’t want to have folks in his village think he was screwed in the head, and keep him locke
