By midday the weather thinned to a steady drip. Children appeared as if the lighter sky had released them—chasing each other between the houses, ignoring Marta's shouted warnings about the soft edge of the strip.
Ada Olsen's brother, whose name turned out to be Liam, had appointed himself counter of every beam and brick in the settlement. He followed me to the hall with a fresh charcoal count and the news that Sofie's roof was dripping in the back corner again.
I found Sofie already under the drip with a clay pot catching the water and a look that dared the roof to do worse.
"I can get up there," I said.
"You can get up there and put a foot through the thatch. Bjorn said he'd look when the rain stopped."
"Rain's stopping."
"Bjorn's on a cart brace with the new one." She shifted the pot. "I've lived under worse drips. Go count your pines."
