they are almost guaranteed a punishment.
The Mothers keep a low profile on feast days. Their presence is most certainly felt, but to a significantly less degree. They stand just outside the reach of the lights in the courtyard, always on the watch, ready to swoop down upon us when the time comes. But generally they keep out of sight. Which allows all of us to relax our formal friendships a little and just enjoy the celebration of the last night of childhood for the Play Groups who were assigned Services that morning.
PG3456 has been virtually shunned by the other Play Groups tonight- no one has stopped by our table as they would have before the Solace. I appear to be the only one who notices though, and even I don ’ t mind. I pretend it ’ s because they want to give us space to recover our group dynamic and not because we carry a stigma. And certainly not because I now wear the black diamond.
There are Unspoken here tonight, there must be. I sit up a little and begin to look at other Play Groups for the first time tonight. All the Services are represented in the entertainments, all of them except for the Unspoken of course, but they would attend the feast because they are part of their Play Groups. Yes. I see Abbot at a table not far from me, laughing with two men. And by the feast tables there is another man, younger than Abbot, with the distinctive haircut and his whole arm covered in weaving lines. On the dance floor a woman sways in time to the music with her Banded partner, her tattooed legs showing under her skirt when her partner spins her. I count twenty-seven in all. Including me, that ’ s twenty-eight Unspoken.
That ’ s a fraction of the forces in the other Services, which range from 100 to 1,000 people, the factories and keepers at the larger end of the scale and the teachers, architects and healers being at the low end. Even if some had already left the feast, it would still be an almost comically low number for a line that is supposed to serve a city of thousands. Less than thirty people couldn ’ t possibly serve all of Chelon. Unless the Service was rarely needed. Like torture.
Chapter Six
The Healers are stepping down from the stage. The feast is officially over and the normal order of subdued obedience settles over everyone almost immediately. PG3456 starts back to our block, staying well within the crowd.
“ Every time we go back to the common room, we must be sure to search it carefully for anything The Mothers may have left, ” Wex says to us under the cover of chatter around us. “ They may try to establish a feeling of safety in us. Once we stop checking is most likely when they will place a device. ” We all nod and smile as if he is talking about the performances. “ We won ’ t talk about anything on the block tonight, but tomorrow we will take an inventory of our services and what we have observed. ” I feel the smoke black finger tattoo throb on my chest. “ Merit, you will be in the best position to find a place to conceal a stockpile. The fields are too open but you might be able to find a place in the stables or barns. ”
Merit agrees as we cross the threshold to our block. Our talk turns to the feast and the anticipation of tomorrow ’ s service training. I don ’ t speak, aside from the few times I am directly applied to for an opinion. In a few minutes the bell tone sounds, alerting us that power down is in ten minutes.
At that moment, something that makes me feel normal for the first time since the Solace began happens. We girls stand in a line in front of the fireplace and the boys walk down it, kissing each of us goodnight. We have said goodnight like this every night since we could walk. It was always my favorite part of the day. Armed with some return of our own routine that makes me feel safe, I no longer dread retiring to my solitary room.
I wash my face and get ready for bed, climbing into it just as the one minute warning bell sounds. The Mothers