I attempted to glean what went on beyond this barred threshold. Were they all well? Did they stew about; pace? Or did they huddle in the corners? And were they going just a little bit mad by now?
I heard nothing. Then, something stirred. A whisper. A murmur. Something scuffed. Then everything returned to silence.
I waited a moment longer, then drew back and lowered the tray. Rapping briefly on the door, I distanced myself down the hall and made for the stairs again. I heard the door creak open as I reached the landing, and couldn't help glancing over my shoulder to catch a possible visual. I only caught the briefest, ghostly portal, though, and then the boundaries returned to their discriminatory order.
Letting it go, I returned downstairs where the others were eating.
“Time to go,” I told Tanen. “I'll walk you into town on my way to see the newsboy.” I did not relish the idea of his company, but I wanted him out, and since I had an appointment with Johnny, I might as well see him out and assure that that's where he went.
“Where are you going to go from here?” Letta was curious.
Halfway through a nod, Tanen turned to her. “I don't know, Monvay,” he admitted. “It's not as if there is anywhere to go.”
Letta nodded, pursing her lips.
“We all have to make a way for ourselves,” I said, sounding encouraging only to hide the predominant pointedness. Tanen took my meaning; I could tell from the flick of his eyes. If Letta did as well, she didn't make it known.
Tanen rose to return his empty bowl to the kitchen. While he was out of the room, I went to the mantle above the hearth and reached to take down a sack of vegetables we had set aside there. It was what I would use to pay Johnny.
Tanen came back into the room just in time to see me sheathing my knife for the trip.
“Let's go,” I bade, and we both headed for the door.
“Keep your wits about you, Tanen of Cathwade,” Letta offered.
He nodded over his shoulder.
“The corners and the shadows tend to try to bite.” With that last amiable warning, Letta stayed behind framed by the door, and I took my charge across the yard, past the walls of the house. A bit of a breeze nipped at my skirts and hair, and I eyed the hazy-turning sky. A bit of weather? Or simply the gust of some shift, and powder over the sun?
Tanen hefted his coat more snugly onto his shoulders, and fell into step beside me. He stayed agreeably quiet for a good portion of time as we headed down the road into the city, but finally he had to pipe up.
“You know you are just taking me back the way I came.”
I glanced at him, a lock of hair whipping gently across my face. “You may go the other way if you like.”
He did not look back at me. His eyes watched his feet, his face grave. “If it's all like this, I think I would rather not know.”
Pity trickled through me, but there wasn't much room for it. “Suit yourself,” I said. “We've survived quite well not knowing.” There, perhaps that was encouraging.
“Your Masters – how long have they been up there?”
This time, my glance was not so tolerant. I could do without references to our 'masters' at this point. They had as good as faded from my life. I was no longer controlled by them. I was free.
I was free.
“We don't count days,” I said in the way of an answer. It was true enough. I counted only by way of having an appointment with the newsboy, or by how much the garden had grown, or by the week as I had to go out looting. But I did not keep track of everything else with much precision.
“Are they opposed to a guest in the house?”
What did he mean to get at by that? “They are opposed to anything and everything that comes from the outside, except what we need to survive. They are even opposed to some things that come from within. The house is diseased, like everything else.”
“Like me? Is that why you are so quick to hustle me out; because you believe everything is diseased?”
So he was going to challenge me, was he? “Can you blame me for not wanting to take chances?” I asked pointedly.
The tentative uprising that lit his face softened. “No.” He couldn't.
I did not want