“Do they know what any of them do?” “A few. One on the coast turns salt water to fresh water. One in Moldoban incinerates everything they put into it—they worshipped it as a god with human sacrifices for many years. Now it’s a waste disposal system.” Slate chuckled into her tea, though she was pretty sure he wasn’t joking. “And there’s one that, if you put in gold, turns it into fresh pears. I’m not sure how they figured that out.”
