Chapter 22
Boat timbers creaked, and white sails snapped.
Beneath the sails, the Keeper apprentices drew their capes tight against an east wind sharp with the threat of winter while Fiachna steered them expertly into the shadow of the granite cliffs of Second Island.
Ahead, the last of the Channeller coracles bumped each other as they edged into the sea cave that was the only entrance to Second House.
Salt-blasted and wind-chilled, the Keepers arrived at last into the still waters of the cave.
A Master stood waiting as they docked, holding a silver lantern.
Master Joen, the Apprentice Master on Second Island.
He was as tall as Master Irial but with a heavier, barrel-chested build and dark coloring.
Facing him, Fiachna recited the formal words of transition. “Master Joen, I commend these apprentices to your care, to be trained and held on this island until they’re deemed Risen.”
With his large frame, black hair, thick eyebrows, and weather-beaten skin, Master Joen made a daunting first impression as he glanced over the shivering Keepers sitting behind her.
His first words were mild enough, though, as he nodded and said, “My thanks to you, Head Keeper Fiachna, journey safe,” before gesturing to the apprentices to follow him.
A cylinder of light had been hollowed out of the cliff, steep stairs winding about it to the top.
While the Channeller apprentices had already flown straight up the light well to the surface, the Keepers had no choice but to pick their way like ants up the rock face, holding on tight to the thin stair railing, the only barrier between them and a long fall to the cave floor.
At last they emerged, breathless, into a courtyard deep within the walls of Second House.
“Let’s go,” said Master Joen, giving them no time to even catch their breath before setting off.
The cliff where Second House had been channeled was little more than a blasted rock at the end of things, the only green the hardy cordylines and saw grass clinging to the stony ground.
Faced with less space, the Master Architects had raised their creation as high as they dared, a defiant fist against the winter storms that came roaring in from the icy tundra of the north.
Channeller walkways crisscrossed the space above them, rising level after level.
The buildings looked inward, windows facing each other across the courtyards.
Nestled within those mighty walls, yews flourished on smooth lawns, and freshwater fountains drawn from deep within the rock played serenely.
As they walked through the cloisters, Master Joen began to tell them a little of the history of Second House.
“As you know, the first channeled buildings were raised by the Three Brothers on First Island and on the mainland in what is now Erisen. However, in the early days of their power, they also came here, to Second Island, and channeled a building on the spot where we now stand. To mark this…”
But as she listened, all éadha could think of was what Master Joen wasn’t saying. Of what Hera had told her, how that first building had been a jail for their sister, Leah. Of the raising of this place to contain whatever terrible wrongness in her the Brothers had so feared.
And she realized that now she didn’t know what to believe from these stories she’d been hearing all her life.
The Master Illusionist’s tales, the Annals, the rows of scrolls in the Library—none of it was about truth or the recording of facts.
What it was about, what it was truly about, was the creation of a story to make now—the Channellers’ world of Fodder and lords—an inevitability, the only possible world.
And a truth like Leah’s truth, whatever it was, didn’t, couldn’t, exist if it had no place within that one true story of now.
She thought then of her own hidden power.
How it, too, seemingly didn’t exist in the Masters’ world.
A shiver went through her as she tightened her thought-wall around it.
They’d reached the end of their short tour, arriving into a courtyard at the heart of Second House where Master Joen went to stand in the center with the Channeller apprentices. The Keepers lined up behind their new Head Keeper on Second Island, Maebh.
“Apprentices. No doubt you’re tired from your journey, so I’ll leave the formal welcomes to the ball this evening.
As most of you know, this evening’s ceremony marks the start of the graduation season for this year’s graduates.
In the coming weeks you’ll join them in their celebrations until they depart after midwinter for their Westport postings.
For now, though, there’s the small matter of quarters and allocations. ”
A murmur went through the group as Joen said this and, with it, a palpable increase in tension on the Keeper side.
“First things first. Captains Ionáin and Linn. As our trial victors, to you goes the choice of quarters.”
Just as on First Island, each Channeller apprentice was entitled to an opulent suite, with Ionáin and Linn both opting for airy quarters high in the main towers.
For the Keepers, though, it was going to be all change.
Pulling a tightly rolled scroll from her sleeve, Head Keeper Maebh stepped forward once the suites had been allocated.
“Keepers, when I call your pairing, take up your position behind your assigned Channeller. When I’m done, accompany them to their apartments, and move your things into your Keeper’s cubby.”
Where on First Island they’d lived in dorms, on Second Island they’d be living in their assigned Channeller’s apartment as their personal Keeper, serving them alongside the ever-present, ever-wordless manservants. Only the few Keepers not directly assigned to a Channeller would live in a dorm.
All around éadha, the other Keepers stood with their heads bowed, rigid with tension.
So much turned on this one allocation for so many of them—their hopes of a life of status and ease as the wife of a Family lord, even of avoiding a Westport posting altogether.
For all their coldness on First Island, éadha still had some sympathy for the pale, anxious faces around her now; life as a Keeper wasn’t easy, and their assignment in the next few minutes would likely shape the rest of their lives.
As Maebh started to read out the list, the first few couples followed the expected lines. Then came the first big change.
“Lord Coll of the Manon Family: Keeper Síle.” Beside éadha there was a muffled gasp from Muir, her hand going to her mouth.
She’d been dating Coll from the start of First Island.
éadha could see the Masters’ logic: Coll was one of the weaker Channeller apprentices while Síle was a very strong Keeper, and the Masters probably thought they made a stronger pairing overall.
It was hard not to feel sorry for Muir as she turned away, trying to hide her tears, and éadha could see the sudden awkwardness in Síofra and Cara standing next to her, neither knowing what to say even as they waited to hear their own fates.
Meanwhile, Maebh had moved on to the next pairing.
“Lady Linn of the Manon Family: Keeper Gry.” Of course that made sense, too, éadha told herself as the names were read out.
Pair the one Channeller girl with the only male Keeper.
Linn was easily the most decent of the Channeller apprentices, and éadha knew she should feel relieved for Gry.
Why then did it feel so painful to see him greeting Linn with a friendly eye roll and realize the days of him living in the dorm next door were really over?
There was no time, though, for éadha to think about what this meant as the allocations continued.
“Lord Cormac of the Reilly Family: Keeper Cara.”
“Lord Ionáin of the Ailm Family: Keeper Ailbhe.”
And even though it wasn’t, couldn’t, be a surprise, éadha’s heart still twisted when she heard the two names called out together, at the sense of finality it carried.
Knowing they’d be living together now in Ionáin’s apartment for the next term.
Like Leah, it seemed, she was being cleared out of the way, written out so the true story of a love match between Houses Ailm and De Paor could be told.
Senan’s name was the last of the Channeller names read out; Maebh paused for a moment before saying, “Lord Senan of the De Lane Family: Keeper éadha.”
So there it was. For the next term she’d be living with, as well as keeping for, Senan.
The most sadistic Channeller of them all.
This was no attempt at a marriage pairing.
Most likely it was because Joen and Maebh had been warned about Senan’s brutality, and like on First Island, they wanted to protect the Family girls from him.
And maybe, too, it was part of her punishment for messing up at the autumn trials.
Senan, after all, had seemed very keen that she be disciplined.
Either way, as the two names were read out, éadha realized all the apprentices around her had gone quiet.
There was none of the usual sniggering from the other girls or the laddish nudges between the Channeller apprentices.
Instead there was a sense, even if they’d never say it out loud, of a game maybe having gone too far.
Senan, though, gestured to her imperiously with one finger.
Fighting down a rising sense of nausea, she obeyed.
In that moment there was nothing else she could do.
“Everyone, proceed to your quarters and get settled in. I’ll see you at the Welcome Ball,” finished the Master.