Gvenet stared at her. For the first time in his life, he had nothing clever to say.
The Gap’s rope bridge swayed like a sleeping serpent. Angy checked the satchel at her hip: linen bandages, a small vial of lavender, boiled sugar for children, and the leather-bound journal where Alice had sketched local plants. She tightened the straps and began down the stone stair, aware that decisions now would ripple far beyond her own household.