Lysander Brightwind's Arc

Chapter 10 of 11

By midmorning Lysander stood at the shed door with the last spool in his hand. Thistle sat on the step behind him, feet crossed. The cocoon's south seam still gaped. Celestia was inside, hands wrapped, unable to spin. Lyra could work one wheel. One wheel was not enough. He needed two more spinners by dusk or the seam would open on the grove. "I'll go again," Lysander said. "They said no yesterday," Thistle said. "They'll say no today." "I'll ask anyway." He walked the path to the north spinner's shed. The elder there met him at the door. She looked past his shoulder at Thistle in his silver shirt and shook her head. "Not while the boy is with you." "The seam will fail." "Then set the boy down somewhere." He went to the next shed and the next. Two spinners refused before he finished speaking. One shut her door. A fourth said she would come if he sent Thistle to sleep at another oak by night. Lysander said no and walked on. By afternoon he was back at Celestia's shed with nothing. Lyra was at the wheel, her crooked-hem robe dusty at the knees. Celestia sat with her wrapped hands in her lap. "None," Lysander said. "I heard," Celestia said. "Word moves faster than you do." Lyra looked up. "Aria hasn't answered you?" "Aria said no last week. Same reason." Thistle stood in the doorway. "Then I go." "You stay," Lysander said. "The seam fails, the grove dies. I'll sit at the far oak till it's done." "No." Celestia lifted her head. "He's not wrong about the math." "He's eight." "He's the reason they won't come." Lysander set the spool down. "Then they don't come. I made the choice at the oak. I'm not unmaking it." A shadow crossed the doorway. Aria stood there in her silk tunic, curls loose, a wheel strapped to her back. Behind her was Dr. Whitmore, sleeves rolled, hair pulled tight. "Aldric told me you'd choose the boy," Aria said. "I wanted to see it." She swung the wheel down. "I'll spin. One night. Then I'm done." "Why now?" Lysander asked. "You didn't trade him for the seam. That's the whole answer." Dr. Whitmore held up her hands. "I can't spin. I can feed a wheel and I can sort stems. Put me somewhere useful before I lose my nerve." Lyra was already clearing the second bench. Aria sat, threaded her wheel, and began. The thread came out even on the first pull. By dusk the south seam closed. Aria stood, stretched, and shouldered her wheel. "Done," she said, and walked out without looking back. Celestia examined the closed seam with her wrapped hand. "South holds," she said. "But I checked the east wall while you were gone. A silkworm found a crack in the anchor plug. It's chewing."