Or maybe I shouldn’t take it personally. Maybe I should pick something I’m not so emotionally invested in. . . .

Of course, that’s not what I want to do. And something one of the Masters had told the class rung true to her. “Pick a project you are passionate about. Your passion will help you find a way.”

Oh, of course technically this span could be bridged by a single arch instead of three—but that would create a bridge so tall that the ramps up to it would be impossibly steep, and the bridge itself would be ridiculously high. Anything of a reasonable height would place the footings down in the water or, at least, too close to the water, and then there would be the same problem all over again, this time with two points of failure instead of four.

Not an option.

Two points of failure would certainly bring the bridge down as fast as four, if not faster.

She studied the banks where the bridge had stood with her Gift, looking for places where the strain showed signs of weakness, and found nothing. Everything flawed had been carried away when the first bridge came down. If she could just find a way to make the span carry all its strain into those banks, it would stand, if not forever, then certainly so far into the future that it probably could be replaced with sword steel, because by then, people would have been able to figure out how to make beams and trusses of sword steel.

Finally, as night came on, she turned away from the river and continued in the direction she’d been heading in the first place. Midsummer Fair. Now she was old enough to prowl the aisles of the Fair at night on her father’s behest. And in male disguise because she wasn’t stupid, and Mags had no interest in ordinary crime. That was for the Guard and the Watch, not the King’s Spy.

The Fair at night was an entirely different creature than the Fair by day. Probably three fourths of the booths were closed, canvas sides pulled down over the tables where goods would have been displayed and lashed down tight. The booths themselves, however, shone in the darkness, like giant lanterns, because no one left his booth unguarded and unprotected. The trays of goods, removed from the display tables, had been piled in the center of each booth, and there were at least two people sleeping there as well.

As for those whose booths were still open, most held two people, one to sell and one to keep a hawk-sharp eye on the goods. The Watch could only do so much, and shadows are a thief’s best friend.