The Dark Device of the Great Chasm, Chapter 14

Amates 20, 1277. Still evening. Still swimming nose-deep in trouble. Inside an overly fancy tent in the middle of nowhere.

    Vargas kept his tent guarded about as well as the other one. Like before, timing and a bit of luck helped me get inside. Once the guard on patrol vanished out of sight, I slipped under the waxed tent cloth.

    The interior was dark, with the only light being a dim glow that seeped in past the front flap. Scents of old hay and musty, weathered canvas hung in the air. They ...