Carryl found nothing but fire in her dreams. Not the fire that consumed forests, but rather the red fire of the bloodied flame, the green fire of pain, and an unknown fire she had not yet seen but she knew would kiss her still one day. She tried to run through the castle halls to escape the fire but found herself in a burning meadow. She tried leaping from the clocktower but found herself in a burning ocean. She tried diving beneath the fire but was grasped by tentacles that pulled her downwards further, into depths where she longed for the sight of a flame. The grasp shook her, whirled her around, slammed her into soft sediment. Distant ringing came closer, then a voice tore through the ocean.
“You have to WAKE UP!”
Merry’s face hung above her, fear on her face.
“You’re gonna miss classes, the belltower rang already!”
Carryl sat up, but did not say a word.
“My goodness, you’re soaking wet, look at that!” Merry ran her finger down the back of Carryl’s neck and showed her a thick drop of sweat. “Are you sick? Maybe you should stay in bed after all.”
Carryl shook her head. “No, no, I just was not dreaming well.” She stood up and took off her soaked nightgown. The events of the previous night weighed her heart still heavy. The blazing red of the sinner’s mark was burned into her eyes, she was afraid to close them. Disgust welled up inside her.
The day did not go well. Nannade sat next to Merry and chatted with her, reserved, occasionally glancing over to Carryl, but Carryl did not care. She kept her eyes forward. She managed to do that for the entire day, kept to herself and her own thoughts of disgusting snake-abominations and sinful majesty.
She did not climb to the roof that night. She stayed in the common room while Merry went through her notes. She tried to play cards but gave up halfway through any of the games. She tried to read but nothing left her interested. She tried to talk to people but with anyone, her mind wandered off after a few words. Every time she blinked, she saw the mark commanding her. She refused, but she knew the day would come.
The next two days did not pass by better and even Merry grew distant from her. On the one occasion Carryl decided to stray from the others instead of sitting idly by, she was promptly encountered by Theresa.
“Young Lady Dwyllaigh, we missed you on our free day, you eschewed such great things by your absence. We were given a tour of the grand theatre where Coultain presents his newest pieces and we were invited to climb to the cupola of the city hall. A beautiful sight is to be beholden from up there.”
Carryl kept her eyes from rolling and smiled. “I was at the training of the Erutoris society, it may not have been glamorous, but it bears a certain prestige, does it not?”
Theresa smiled down upon Carryl. “Oh, Erutoris, Famuli, Machinators, those are vocations for commoners, why would you waste your precious time with those?”
A quick remark came to Carryl, but she swallowed it. “Either way, I was invited to Le Petite Debut of Madame Susanna-Bellia, maybe we will meet there.”
Instead of showing interest or petty amusement, Theresa now showed utter disgust. “You would go there? To that festivity by the brothel-maitresse and organizer of orgies? I recommend you not, it can only end badly for your reputation.”
Carryl raised an eyebrow. “brothel-maitresse?”
“Yes. Madame Susanna-Bellia is generally known as the most salacious of characters in this fine city. Not only is she a foreigner and a common upstart, she also owns some of the least reputable establishments down to dark places down at the piers of the harbour district.”
Carryl did not know what to say for a moment. “Well.... I was invited by a friend, I will not deny that request.”
Theresa turned cold again. “I wish you not too much enjoyment at that place, for I have heard enough about what enjoyment entails in the presence of that woman.” She turned around and left. Carryl felt outright dirty.
The third day of lectures arrived and with it, the evening of Le Petit Debut. Merry was giddy and excited the entire day’s length, but Carryl looked ahead little. They prepared in the evening before dinner, as Nannade had told then that all food would be provided. Merry put on rouge and powder wasted on her dark skin. Carryl just sat on her bed, made sure her robes sat properly and nothing else. Until Merry turned to her.
“Are you going to feel any better tonight? Or will you just sit there again?”
Carryl put on a quick smile. “Oh no, I feel fine, do not worry about me.”
“Carryl, don’t pretend as if I’m stupid, I am not.” With that, she was right. “I can tell something happened between you and Nannade. I don’t know what or when and even Nannade won’t tell me, but you will. You will either make up with her tonight or I don’t want to go to that place at all.”
Carryl gritted her teeth. She really wished to avoid the issue, but Merry kept pressing her with her gaze alone. “I cannot tell you, really.”
“You better tell me right now! We are supposed to be friends! Don’t treat me like a dumb third.” She had her arms crossed, her hip cocked and a glare of anger on her face.
And with that Carryl had to admit, Merry had become a dumb third. She was not privy to the secrets Carryl had promised to keep. She could not deny that there was a secret either. Carryl felt herself running towards a conversation like a cavalry charge ran towards a line of pikes. Her impact would destroy everything. Then she remembered something Nannade had said. The best lies are the ones that are true as long as you don’t tell all of it. She knew she could hide the truth in a true lie.
“When you fell asleep on that roof, Nannade said something to me. She said that you and her, you had both left your sad past behind, but that I would soon be meeting my own sadness.”
Merry’s cocky sternness disappeared. “Huh?”
“I never liked the prospect of being forced to marry just to birth children. But that is what will happen unless I can somehow flee. But even that my house will not allow.”
“Oh.” Merry’s face grew concerned and she took a step closer to where Carryl sat.
Carryl had begun the true lie and noticed that it flowed off her tongue much easier. Much easier especially than the lies she was used to tell adults after they had stormed into the room and found another broken vase or burnt rug. “That made me wonder. I do not know whether mystics truly can see the future, but it made me wonder whether she is just watching us with a sort of... perverse interest in how we will face failure.”
“Well.... I guess you should talk to her. Maybe her talks with spirits has her a bit aloof from the worries of normal people. I am sure she can help you with your future, don’t turn away from friends!”
Carryl looked at Merry and gave her a soft smile. Thinking and talking of that day on the roof had brought an endearment back to her, as if she could like that crolachan girl again instead of being repulsed by the monstrosity.
“Promise me! Promise me you will talk to her tonight!”
“Fine then. I promise. If you promise to waste no more good rouge on your complexion. You’ll cake your entire skin over before anyone sees even a speck of it.”
Merry turned to the mirror and frowned, pulling on her clothes as if she had dropped a pie in the cesspit.
Carryl walked to her wardrobe and took one of her fine cotton skirts, then she saw the jewellery box. She remembered the silver hair pins with amber tips she had received from her mother. She took a few and handed them to Merry as well. “Here, take these, too.”
Merry hesitated. “But amber is your house’s symbol, am I allowed to wear it?”
It amused Carryl. She put one into her own hair and then stepped to Merry in front of the mirror. She held the amber pearl right next to where her dark, spotless skin met her fine, curly hair of rusty brown. The specular yellow gleamed like an ember on a coal. “It is mere finery, not really a crest, and it befits your face more than mine. Take it.”
Merry took one hesitantly and stuck it in her hair. “Oh it’s so pretty, Carryl. Thank you!” she returned to painting her face in colours nobody would be able to see either way.
“You look fine, let us hurry now, I want to be there before sundown.”
Merry did eventually decide it was enough and they went on their way. Carryl made sure to take another hairpin with her, for Nannade.
The whole way to Madame Susanna-Bellia’s mansion outside the city walls, Carryl had to think of Teresa’s words. Words like brothel-maitresse and organizer of orgies. She tried her best to not let it get to her, but her worries that the Madame was truly involved in less savoury business did not let her go. She kept her peace, Merry was the last one who needed to worry about such things. For her, this was an unprecedented opportunity and Carryl wanted to preserve it for her.
They wandered through the richer areas outside the walls, were large mansions with larger gardens sat next to old farming estates kept in good condition by families of acquired wealth. They came to the mansion in question, surrounded by the tallest hedge around and before the gate in the hedge stood two men in black leather vests and fine velour shirts, marked as guards only by the wooden cudgels at their hips, but even those bore engravings and etched metal plating. Nobody would want to use these unless necessary.
The two girls showed their invitations to them and were promptly let inside. They stood in the rose garden in front of the mansion, three stories high and with walls of brickwork, and already they saw themselves faced with a chatty group of people, most of them older – undoubtedly the influential and wealthy people Madame Bellia was actually interested in – but a few were accompanied by boys and girls in Carryl’s and Merry’s age or even younger. Some wore robes of students of Halonnes University, others wore normal clothes, as far as the visibly expensive and ornate attire could be called normal.
“Do you know anyone here?” Merry leaned over to Carryl and spoke in a frightened whisper.
Carryl had to admit. “No, nobody. Should we not be accompanied by someone? I feel left out already.” At least with Teresa, she knew she could start any conversation she wanted with pointless verbiages.
They were suddenly shooed aside by a group of three coming from behind them, well-dressed folk that obviously had better things to do than to look where they were walking.
Lost and confused, the two stood by the side of the path, between rose hedges, exchanging shrugging glances with each other when they saw a bright figure in the shape of a crolachan woman approaching them. She was short and slow of gait, as any crolachan would, but her fur and mane were perfectly white and her eyes were of a rosy red, something Carryl had never seen or even heard of before. She wore a green dress that was split in the front and back, -displaying her tail, mane and the fluffy crest, only covering the most salacious areas. A risqué garment that she was aware of in each elegant, hip-swaying step she took.
Merry already made way for her, but it seemed the woman approached them specifically.
“Be greeted, Charges of the Exalted, you must be the friends of Nannade.” She addressed with confidence and made a quick curtsy, which Merry and Carryl returned. “My name is Blanchetta, I was tasked with bringing you to Madame Susanna-Bellia as soon as I see you. Please follow me, she has important words to speak to you.”
Without time for further introductions, she turned to lead them. They passed a servant carrying small bites to eat and Merry quickly reached for one before Carryl had even seen them. Happily chewing she then said. “Olives and peppers.”
Blanchetta drew the gazes of others as they walked by. Her entire figure had a grace and dignity that Carryl could well envision enchanted and enthralled both human and crolachan men within an instant. She led them inside the mansion and through a lobby with ample cushioned seating for the chatting guests. The famulus immediately noticed them, observing the passage of any person through the lobby very accurately. He was a man with a carefully trimmed black beard, wearing a grey robe and wielding an unadorned, simple staff. Carryl could well imagine him to be the one managing Madame Susanna Bellia's mansion as the first right beneath her, a major-domo so to say.
When Blanchetta passed him by, she just said a quick “Nannade’s guests I’m taking them to La Madame right away, Bernard.” And the famulus nodded to them in recognition. Out of the crowd of guests in the lobby, Blanchetta led them up the stairs and to a set of wide double doors, then knocked. The voice of Madame Susanna-Bellia called them in.
The room was spacious and wide. A desk stood to the left, windows were to the right. In the corner stood a group of cushioned furniture and a table for tea and biscuit. In the centre stood Madame Susanna-Bellia inspecting the clothes of Nannade, picking a loose thread of her shoulders before turning around. La Madame wore a long rosy dress with many intricate floral stitchings, her hair was not done into a simple bun as the last time they had met but fell elegantly in a wavy manner over her shoulders with two leather-wrapped braids. When she stepped aside to greet them with a hospitable smile, Carryl saw Nannade fully.
She wore a long green robe, closed all around like a dress and held close with a leather braid for a sash, vines and leaves in silver thread adorned her, her mane was finely braided with beads of jade. But to Carryl, the golden eyes had a hint of that caustic green that had burned her mind those days before. She could still barely withstand them. Instinctively, she looked away.
Madame Susanna-Bellia turned away from looking at Nannade’s attire and gave her a sign to remain still and silent before turning to the two guests, then she spoke to them. “Be greeted into my house. Let me begin with saying it bluntly: you are only here due to the begging of your friend. If it were up to me, none of my guests would have to suffer your presence. The least you can do is bear yourself accordingly, behave and not cause any problem. If you cannot manage even that, I will no longer look upon your association with my Charge so benevolently. Do you understand that?"
Carryl and Merry replied dryly “Yes, Madame Susanna-Bellia.” Carryl could feel the judgement weigh on her.
“Now, for Mademoiselle Dwyllaigh, there may be an obvious excuse as to why she is here, but you, Mademoiselle Meredith.” She turned her head to Merry in a motion that showed that the girl was barely worth even that gesture. “I have yet to come up with one.”
Merry quietly replied. “I am sorry, Madame Susanna-Bellia.” Without realizing the question that had just been posed to her.
A moment passed, the eyes of La Madame narrowed and grew disdainful before Carryl intervened. “She is a recipient of the King’s scholarship of King Maoldonaich III and oathbound to the people of Cyrrgwarth.”
La Madame’s eyes brightened. “Well then, that might impress one or two people. Wear that, Meredith.”
Merry merely nodded hastily and then looked to Carryl in a way both sorry and grateful.
“Now, I will leave the three of you alone, but Nannade will have to prepare, the first performance will start soon, so do not be long.” La Madame left the room and only with the clunk of the door falling shut did Nannade move finally to embrace the two.
“I am so glad you made it, I was so worried.”
Without looking at Nannade, Carryl bumped Merry. “I told you to hurry up and cut down on the rouge.”
Merry rolled her eyes. “Well then, hurry up and give her the pin!”
Carryl fished the pin out of her robe’s pocket and handed it to Nannade. When their eyes met, Carryl’s mien dropped an inch before she could hold up the charade. Both of them immediately knew the thoughts in each other’s heads.
Before Nannade said anything, she looked to the door. “I don’t know if I should. La Madame has already given her last agreement to my exterior, I am to perform.”
“Oh come on now, it can’t be that bad.” Merry poked her. “Put it on.”
Nannade obliged and put it in her first braid of her mane, where the amber shone above the centre of her face. Her smile was genuine, but Carryl could not partake in it. “Will you listen to my first performance? I want to practice it some more.”
“What performance? Will you be showing some more spirit magic?”
Nannade chuckled. “No, just a poem, later some songs and tunes. The audience here is not too interested in magic, but La Madame cannot let the opportunity pass her by to show off a gracious one of the homeland to her influential guests, now can she?”
She led them to the cushioned furniture in the corner and opened a small leather-bound book to read from. When she spoke, she put those hard Sturrish consonant to great use in between drawn vowels and felt like the wind between harsh mountains.
As the lark flies free above the trees
And the mouse hides in the grain
As the doe grazes on the leas
Your embrace heals me from pain.
As the brook cools off my weary feet
And the wind frees tangled hair
As the forest shelters from heat
I can rest when in your care.
I give myself under starry sky
Witnessed by the fullest moon
We send our common wishes fly
To receive a blessing soon.
From the soil tilled straight beneath your boots
And your love upholding me.
We grow the land’es richest fruits
And plant our future here
As deep as roots of the founding oaks
As sure as granite’s stand
As soothing as the lakeside croaks
With love you take my hand.
The last syllables rolled off Nannade’s tongue and Merry gave a tiny applause. “That was so sweet.”
“THank you, Merry.” Suddenly, Nannade’s ears twitched as she seemed to hear something the others couldn’t. “You should go down to the festivities and have some food and drink. I am sure you left before dinner. My first performance will start soon, after that, we’ll have more time.”
Merry nodded. “Oh yes, I want some more of those olives.”
They left the office and went to the stairwell, where they could look down on the lounge. After the downward words of Madame Susanna-Bellia, Carryl was dreading the prospect of mingling with this esteemed society of La Madame’s, when Merry suddenly pointed to two men in the crowd.
“Oh look, there’s Gualdo!”
And indeed, there stood the tall, broad-shouldered tan figure of Gualdo in his student robes, talking to a very similar looking yet shorter man in the robes of a commanding officer of Northrbidge University, orange dark grey and deep blue with silver trim. Before Carryl could say anything, Merry was already down the stairs and headed towards them. Carryl hurried after her.
“Hi, Gualdo!” Merry burst into his previous conversation.
Gualdo turned to Merry and raised an eyebrow. “You seem familiar, did we meet before?”
Merry nodded eagerly. “I am one of the newcomers to the Erutoris Society this semester.”
Carryl arrived in a hurry and quickly took over the reigns of the situation. She did not like to imagine how La Madame would see this act of budging in. “I am sorry, fellow Charge oft the Exalted. This is Meredith oft Aeoldonys, recipient of the King's scholarship of Cyrrgwarth, awarded by King Maoldonaich III. I am Carolinia of House Dwyllaigh, daughter of King Maoldonaich III. We are pleased to see you here.” She took a few more deep breaths before standing up straight.
Merry seemed to grasp the situation she had created and tucked her head in carefully.
Gualdo meanwhile responded with a chuckle. “Well then, I am Gualdo of House Teccarno” He gestured to the other man in the conversation, who had a striking resemblance to him, but looking older as well as sporting a scar running above his left eyebrow and being of somewhat shorter physique. By the metal bands on his staff, he held the rank of at least lieutenant and was an accomplished combatant. “and this is Olybrius of House Teccarno, my cousin who recently returned from a year-long campaign in the northern strait. He is here on recommendation of...” Gualdo seemed to have trouble remembering and turned to his cousin for help
Olybrius smiled and continued. “I am here on recommendation of Professor Alivor, Dean of Evocation of the Exalted Northbridge University, since he himself has other matters to attend.”
Gualdo seemed content with all the verbiages so far. “Well then, two freshmen already on such a prestigious event? I was first sent here by recommendation of Professor Oesevir herself just last year after winning for Halonnes in the Erutoris games in several categories.”
Carryl put a hand on Merry’s shoulder to make sure she left the talking to her. “We are here on direct invitation of Madame Susanna-Bellia personally.” Making sure to put some intonation of pride on it.
Both Gualdo and Olybrius were impressed by the display. Gualdo was the one to continue. “Well then, do you plan on staying with the Erutoris Society despite the training?”
Both Carryl and Merry gave their most enthusiastic “Yes!” they could.
“So I hope. Not many girls manage to stick with them. They might not make very good dashers, but menders and routers are always welcome.”
Carryl felt again that bitter taste, being judged and pushed to the back lines. She wanted to declare her intention of beating all the boys, but she knew it to be in bad taste right then. Their conversation went no further than that, for Madame Susanna-Bellia entered the lounge and clapped her hands together. The people present fell silent one by one and looked to their host.
With a beaming smile, La Madame proclaimed. “Dearest guests, how honoured I am to see all of you here today, I cannot express it. I had little time with most of you and no time with some, but we shall advance in our planned program for tonight and as a first point of entertainment, I may present to you with pride, a Gracious One of Sturreland, a mystic of the Lodge, a true exotic beauty and skilled in many arts, my personal charge and Charge of the Exalted, Mademoiselle Nannade, here to read us poetry of the deepest forests of the inner continent.” She stepped aside and gestured towards the top of the stairs.
“Did she just say Nannade?” Olybrius looked shocked, in disbelief. He shoved Carryl aside like a beggar without a second thought and pushed straight through the crowd. “From Sturreland?” He dropped his staff to the ground carelessly and used both hands to push apart the other guests with his strength, meanwhile ignoring any complaint or comments from them. His cousin tried to reach his shoulder, but Olybrius was already through the crowd.
Down from the stairs came the beautiful crolachan girl, with her finely adorned robe and Ssil wrapped around her neck with those bright green eyes that sent a pang of pain through Carryl’s eyes, through her head and down her spine.
Olybrius turned pale, as if he had seen a ghost. His eyes spoke of disbelief. He pushed all the way to the centre of the lounge, where a servant had put down a chair, on which Nannade now took place, opening her book and inhaling to speak the first syllable.
“Nannade?” Olybrius has arrived at the chair, still pale.
Nannade turned her head in surprise to look at Olybrius and when their eyes met, her entire visage spoke of fright, her ears clasped tightly backwards on the sides of her head, her pupils widened to circles and her jaw clenched. She stood up and took a step backwards at the same time, stumbling over the chair and falling on her rear, but keeping her gaze fixed on the man standing before her. The entire crowd had fallen silent and an odd look of discomposure appeared on La Madame’s face.
“Olly?” Nannade brought forth finally, choked and gagged, as she shot her finger forward pointing as if accusing him of a crime. “They told me you were dead!”
“They told me you were dead!” Was what Olybrius answered.
The two remained there, Olybrius standing at the edge of the crowd, Nannade fallen backwards over her chair, then, in a sudden movement, she got up, took a long stride towards Olybrius and leapt onto him, not even into his arms, but burying her fingers and toes deep in his clothes, the sinews tightening to an iron grip, while pressing her lips onto his and pulling him deep into her by the collar of his robes.
The crowd gasped, chattered and chuckled at the sudden display of affection. Even Olybrius himself, at first surprised, wrapped his arms around Nannade and returned her embrace and pushed against her lips in turn. Nannade’s legs reached around his back and pressed her pelvis onto his when La Madame appeared upset enough.
“BERNARD!” Madame Susanna Bellia’s voice cut through the lounge and the famulus responded with a stomp of his staff, whereupon a curtain of blackness manifested around the larger area of the kissing couple.
The crowd gasped again and Carryl could see La Madame enter the black barrier with an angry stride, emerging soon after, dragging Nannade up the stairs behind the curtain by her ear. Carryl felt the urge to hurry after them.
“What was that?” Merry turned to Carryl with a voice full of confusion. “Do they know each other? Nannade never ever talked any sweetheart of hers, did she to you?”
Carryl thought about her answer for a moment. Nannade had indeed talked about not being able to tell her secret even the person she loved, but she had sworn to secrecy. She looked to Merry, whose gaze spoke of confusion and discomfort. Should she tell her about their common friend?
“No, never.” Carryl answered. “This is the first time I hear of it.” Carryl had an odd feeling in her gut when she lied like that. It hurt, not for herself, but also for the pain she knew Nannade had gone through.
“Esteemed guests,” Bernard the famulus was addressing the people, dismissing the black curtain where a very confused Olybrius was still standing, visibly distraught and conflicted, robes no longer in proper order becoming of his rank. “La Madame will return shortly, please enjoy the festivities in the meantime.”
Olybrius wanted to head up the stairs, but was stopped by Bernard. While the famulus was distracted, Carryl got a sudden tingle in her mind. She could sneak past him, she knew it. She thought no longer about it and grabbed Merry, then dragged her along, going down into a crouch, up the stairs with quick but careful steps. Avoiding the castle guard and nannies when playing in the halls and tunnels had given her some semblance of skill, it seemed. Only when she had arrived upstairs did she notice Merry had much less grace and skill, but Olybrius started to yell and impose himself to the visibly unimpressed Bernard, giving them a better cover.
Carryl looked up and down the hallway and she started to feel something. A presence, a certain fright that overcame her, a feeling as if a voracious beast was stalking these halls, then, in a flash, a mental image cut through her consciousness, a pain to her forehead and the green caustic flame that had once before touched her, threatening to singe away her consciousness again. She held her head with cramping hands, holding on to the moment, taking in every real impression she could find: the carpeted floor, the elegant handles on the oak wood doors, Merry’s voice asking her something, it all threatened to disappear in a flood of pain to every sense. Then, her mind finally grasped a hold of something.
“Carryl!” Merry shook her shoulder and hissed her question, a barely contained whisper. “Are you alright? Is something wrong?”
Carryl saw her friend’s face and held on to the impression. She pointed to the door to the office. “I think they are in there.”
They got close enough to the door and listened. They heard Madame Susanna Bellia's voice, but not loud enough to understand. Nannade’s voice, however, was easily audible.
“I'M GOING TO KILL ALIVOR!”
La Madame spoke some strict words, obviously in an attempt to soothe Nannade. Carryl felt a roaring flame, bursting from between clenched fingers, she felt the hatred and will for pain that had once touched her.
“HE TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!”
Carryl felt the green flames in her mind flare up, heard them crackling and roaring and within it, she could tell the snake was laughing in ecstasy, in rapturous anticipation of a feast. Whoever this Alivor was, Carryl did not envy him for whatever he had done to Nannade.
“HE MUSTN’T GET AWAY WITH IT! HE MUST NOT! JUSTICE DEMANDS IT! SHE DEMANDS IT!” Nannade’s words became mixed in with a congested nose and sobs. Soon after, she broke out in more screams of anger. Then the sound of fists and claws hitting wood, even the door rattled. For a moment in consisted, then it was over.
There was sobbing and attempts at comforting, during which Carryl and Merry looked at each other helplessly. But eventually, they heard Madame Susanna Bellia coming to the door. Carryl looked behind them and saw an open door to a dark room. She grabbed Merry’s hand and dashed for the door, but her hand slipped away before Merry realized what was going on. She remained in the hallway while Carryl already hid behind some cushioned furniture.
While Merry was still standing dumbfounded, the door to the office opened and Madame Susanna-Bellia came out. Merry stood there, puzzled, looking at her like a child with a hand in the sugar bag.
“I guess I should have expected you here. You cannot stay here, I need to go find Blanchetta and you ought to rejoin the festivities.”
Merry spoke up quickly. “If you're looking for someone to comfort Nannade, I can do that, she’s my friend, y'know!”
“No, I need to find Blanchetta because all the performances of the evening just thrown out the window with that little temper tantrum. Nannade needs to regain her composure, by herself.” She said those last words with a forceful insistence to Merry, then urged her down the stairs with a gesture one would use to herd geese. At the stairs, she called out “Bernard! Office!” and after the sound of a staff stomping on the floor, Carryl suddenly saw the finely worked wooden veneer of the door shift and move across the gap, interlocking to make the entire door one continuous surface. Fists were pounding against the door from the inside, a scream of final frustration was heard, then all was silent.
Carryl still sat in the dark and slowly stood back up. She carefully checked the hallways before heading to the office door. All was clear and she inspected the wood that barred the door. It was entirely impossible to open it in this state. She considered what she could do; she thought of finding Nannade on the other side of that door, disgusting, abominable, sinful. It made her turn around, meet Merry downstairs and enjoy the evening while that thing was locked up, but she also remembered Merry and her promise. Maybe talking to Nannade once again would clear things up. Maybe she would no longer have to live the rest of her studies with that feeling of revulsion. She was already trespassing; she might as well use the opportunity and keep on sneaking.
