In any case, they were heading into the sections of the House of the Unclaimed where the children didnt go now, into the spaces reserved for the nuns and their visitors. Most of it was plain, although there were notes of wealth here and there, in gilded candlesticks, or in the shine of silver around a ceremonial masks edges.
The room they led Sophia to was practically plush by the standards of the orphanage. It looked a little like the receiving parlor of some noble house, with chairs set around the edges, each with a small table holding a goblet of wine and a plate with sweetmeats. There was a table at one end of the room, behind which Sister OVenn stood, a length of folded vellum beside her. Sophia guessed that it would be the tally for her indenture. Would they even let her know the amount before they sold it on?
Formally, Sister OVenn said, we are required to ask you, before we sell on your indenture, if you have the means to repay your debt to the goddess. The amount is here. Come, you worthless thing, and find out what youre actually worth.
Sophia didnt get a choice; they took her to the table and she looked down at it. She wasnt surprised to find every meal, every night of lodging annotated. It came to so much that Sophia recoiled from it instinctively.
Do you have the means to pay this debt? the nun repeated.
Sophia stared up at her. You know I dont.
There was a stool in the middle of the floor, carved from hard wood and completely at odds with the rest of the room. Sister OVenn pointed to it.
Then you will sit there, and do so demurely. You will not speak unless required to. You will obey any instruction instantly. Fail, and there will be punishment.
Sophia hurt too much to disobey. She went to the low stool and sat, keeping her eyes downcast enough that she wouldnt attract the attention of the nuns. Even so, she watched as figures came into the room, men and women, all with the sense of wealth around them. Sophia couldnt see much more of them than that, though, because they wore veils not unlike those of the nuns, obviously so no one would see who was interested in buying her like chattel.
Thank you for coming in at such short notice, Sister OVenn said, and now her voice held the smoothness of a merchant extolling the virtues of some fine silk or perfume. I hope that you will find it worthwhile. Please take a moment to examine the girl, and then make your bids with me.
They surrounded Sophia then, staring at her the way a cook might have examined a cut of meat at the market, wondering what it would be good for, trying to see any trace of rot or excessive sinew. A woman ordered Sophia to look at her, and Sophia did her best to obey.
Her coloring is good, the woman said, and I suppose she might be pretty enough.
A pity they wont let us see her with a boy, a fat man said with a trace of an accent that said hed come from across the Knifewater. His expensive silks were stained with old sweat, the stink of it disguised by a perfume probably better suited to a woman. He glanced over to the nuns as if Sophia wasnt there. Unless your opinion on that has changed, sisters?
This is still a place of the Goddess, Sister OVenn said, and Sophia could pick out the genuine disapproval in her voice. Strange that she would balk at that, when she didnt at so much else, Sophia thought.
She reached out with her talent, trying to pick out what she could from the minds of those there. She didnt know what she hoped to accomplish, though, because there was no way she could think of to influence their opinions of her one way or another. Instead, it just gave her an opportunity to see the same cruelties, the same harsh ends, again and again. The best she could hope for was servitude. The worst made her shiver with fear.
Hmm, she does quiver beautifully when shes afraid, one man said. Too fine for the mines, I guess, but Ill put in my bid.
He walked to Sister OVenn, whispering a figure to her. One by one, the others did the same. When they were done, she looked around the room.
Currently, Meister Karg has the highest bid, Sister OVenn said. Does anyone wish to raise their offer?
A couple seemed to consider it. The woman who had wanted to look into Sophias eyes walked over to the masked nun, presumably whispering another figure.
Thank you, all of you, Sister OVenn said at last. Our business is concluded. Meister Karg, the contract of indenture now belongs to you. I am required to remind you that should it be repaid, this girl will be free to go.
The fat man snorted beneath his veil, pulling it away to reveal a ruddy face with too many chins and not improved by the presence of a bushy moustache.
And when has that ever happened with my girls? he shot back. He held out a pudgy hand. Sister OVenn took the contract, placing it in his grip.
The others there made small sounds of irritation, although Sophia could sense that several of them were already thinking about other possibilities. The woman who had raised her bid was thinking that it was a pity she had lost, but only in the way it irritated her when one of her horses lost a race against those of her neighbors.
All the while, Sophia sat there, unable to move at the thought of having her entire life handed over to someone so easily. A few days ago, shed been about to marry a prince, and now now she was about to become this mans property?
There is just the matter of the money, Sister OVenn said.
The fat man, Meister Karg, nodded. I will deal with it now. It is better to pay in coin than bankers promises when there is a ship to catch.
A ship? What ship? Where did this man plan to take her? What was he going to do with her? The answers to that were easy enough to snatch from his thoughts, and just the idea of it was enough to make Sophia half rise, ready to run.
Strong hands caught her, the nuns clamping their grips around her arms once more. Meister Karg looked over at her with casual contempt.
Have her taken to my wagon, would you? I will settle things here, and then
And then, Sophia could see that her life would become a thing of even worse horror. She wanted to fight, but there was nothing she could do as the others led her away. Nothing at all. In the privacy of her head, she screamed for her sisters help.
Yet it seemed that Kate either hadnt heard or didnt care.
CHAPTER FOUR
Again and again, Kate died.
Or died at least. Illusory weapons slid into her flesh, ghostly hands strangled her into unconsciousness. Arrows flickered into existence and shot through her. The weapons were only things formed from smoke, pulled into existence by Siobhans magic, but every one of them hurt as much as a real weapon would have.
They didnt kill Kate, though. Instead, each moment of pain merely brought a sound of disappointment from Siobhan, who watched from the sidelines with what seemed to be a combination of amusement and exasperation at the slowness with which Kate was learning.
Pay attention, Kate, Siobhan said. Do you think Im summoning these dream fragments for my entertainment?
The figure of a swordsman appeared in front of Kate, dressed for a duel rather than an all-out battle. He saluted her, leveling a rapier.
This is the Finnochi derobement, he said in the same flat monotone the others seemed to have. He thrust at her and Kate went to parry with her wooden practice sword, because shed learned to do that much, at least. She was fast enough to see the moment when the fragment changed direction, but the move still caught her off guard, the ephemeral blade slipping through her heart.