The long-drift carrier was the first one to understand what the packet had cost.
Cassian had him below the hall before the daylight fully shifted toward afternoon, bound to the second chair opposite Rowan with the oilskin packet opened flat between them and the false bundle from the drift dumped useless and ruined on the table for comparison. The man had come in with ash on his coat and snow still ground into one knee. He had not spoken on the walk back. He did not need to. The sight of the real packet unfolded under Rowan's eyes had already done part of the work.
