Chapter 147: Neck Check Part 1 (Patreon)

Lira woke up after sleeping like the dead. She hadn't dreamed at all. It felt as though she had closed her eyes and opened them again, and it was already morning. She was still in her work clothes, with no memory of lying down or even pulling the blanket over herself. After two nights of barely sleeping, her body had taken what it was owed all at once.

She turned her head. Tessa was asleep on the next bed, with one arm hanging off the mattress and her mouth slightly open, the collar of her nightgown fallen to one side. Lira's eyes went to her neck, and she felt a jolt of panic.

The memory of Kelroth's chains flooded back into her mind. She had seen people going about their day without a hint of what had been done to them. Those chains were invisible to the naked eye. Lira could not bear the thought of one of her friends wearing one without knowing it.

She checked that her journal was still under her pillow, with the mana obfuscation bookmark between the pages. Then she drew the blanket over her head so nobody could see her lips move.

"Ladar. Kalma. Hano. Syneth. Velar."

The dormitory filled with threads, running out of the chests of the sleeping maids, dim and quiet and mostly green, with the odd muddy streak here and there. One red strand stretched all the way across the room, between two girls in opposite corners who had been feuding for a year over a boy. Both were sleeping with their backs turned to each other.

She narrowed the karmic threads with Velar until only the ones belonging to the girl in the next bed were left. One strand left Tessa and one came back from Lira's own chest, both green, with Tessa's brighter than hers, exactly as it had been the first time she checked. Then she looked at the neck again. There was nothing around it, no chain and no thread, only skin.

She let the spell go and lay still for a moment, relief loosening her chest. Tessa was safe, but that only made her think of everyone else. If Kelroth's reach was as wide as it had looked in the courtyard, any of her friends could already be caught, and she would not know until she looked. She should check everyone she cared about.

"...Lira?" Tessa opened her eyes and smiled. "Morning! How are you feeling?"

"Better than yesterday. You?"

"Great!" Tessa flung off her covers and hopped out of bed, already reaching for her apron. "I'm starving. Come on, up, up!"

Lira squinted at her, unable to match the girl's energy. Still, she dragged herself upright and tried to straighten her work clothes.

Lira left the dormitory with Tessa, and they had barely stepped into the corridor when she noticed Celene standing near her office door. The headmaid started toward her, then slowed, then stopped halfway and twisted her fingers together before finally coming the rest of the way, her eyes on the floor.

"You go ahead to the kitchens," Lira told Tessa. "I'll catch up."

Tessa glanced from one of them to the other and, for once, said nothing. She nodded and went off down the corridor.

"Lira," Celene said. "Could we talk in my office?"

"Of course."

Celene took out her keys and fumbled with the lock. The creak of the door as it swung open was loud enough to cover Lira's whisper.

"Ladar. Kalma. Hano. Syneth. Velar."

Celene's neck was bare, and Lira felt a quiet relief. The two strands between them were mostly green, with a few threads of muddy orange running through both. Celene's had only a handful, thin as hairs, while Lira's had more, and she could guess the cause of each one.

The office was small and neat, with a desk covered in ledgers and two chairs facing each other. They sat down, and Celene straightened a stack of papers, though it felt more like something to keep her hands busy.

"Would you like something to drink? I have tea. Or wine, if you would rather."

"No, thank you."

Celene nodded and took a breath.

"Estophon questioned me before you," she said at last. "With that truth stone in front of me, I was forced to say more than I wanted to. When he asked whether I had plotted against Kavard, the whole Maren business came out, and your part in it too. I'm so sorry, Lira. I couldn't help it."

"Celene." Lira leaned forward. "I was questioned the same way you were. When you're sitting in front of that stone, revealing secrets was inevitable."

Her eyes dropped to Celene's strand. The spell was still running, and she could see the orange threads running through it. 

Guilt, she guessed. She wondered whether it could be eased.

"There is nothing to forgive," she said, "but if you need to hear it, then I forgive you."

Some of the orange faded as she said it. The headmaid let out a breath, and her shoulders relaxed.

Her own side of the strand did not shift. Lira wondered for a moment whether confessing her own sins, like the sheet she had slipped into Celene's journal, would ease her burden too, or whether learning about them would offend Celene enough to turn the whole thread red. It was not a risk she was willing to take right now.

"If there's anything I can do for you," Celene said. "Anything at all."

"Actually, I would like the day off. I want to visit Maren and see how she's taking the news about Kavard."

Celene's expression changed, and she nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, go. She will want a friendly face today." She gave a small, tired smile. "The library can stay closed until tomorrow."

Lira picked up a bowl of pudding from Old Marga, who handed it over with a nod, and sat down next to Tessa. Tessa was in the middle of a story, gossiping with three other maids, and she barely paused to make room.

Lira ate slowly and cast under her breath, with the chatter covering her whisper.

"Ladar. Kalma. Hano. Syneth. Velar."

Marga's neck was bare, and Lira felt a small sense of relief.

It turned out to be the cleanest reading of the day. Marga's strands came in two colours and no more. They were green toward the people who worked hard, the scullery girls and the footmen who carried wood without complaint, and a dull red toward the lazy ones she would not trust to stir a pot. The two colours never touched or mixed. Nearly everyone else Lira had looked at that week carried a mix of colours, even if one dominated, but there was no blue coming from Marga's, no pink, no orange, only green or red.

Marga's strand toward Lira was a dull green. Lira's own toward her was blue, clean and deep with gratitude, and it made her think about how often the old cook had helped her, slipping her choice bits of food from the nobles' table. She probably should do something for Marga in return.

The only deeper green Marga had belonged to Brenneth, who had worked at her side for at least fifteen years.

A few red threads ran out of the kitchen toward the main hall. Lira could not follow them to the end, but she guessed they belonged to Harwin or Dalwin, since she had heard Marga complain about both.

While she ate, Lira let her eyes drift around the table, looking for chains on the people who had gathered to eat. She found two around the necks of two footmen sitting side by side, and a third around a maid at the far end.

She noticed something else. Marga's strands toward those three were red, and slightly deeper than the rest. Marga had no patience for lazy people, and the lazy ones were most likely to take an extra coin on payday.

She finished her pudding, said goodbye to Tessa, and went to check on Lyth.