Solitary

The room is seven paces long, and five and a half paces wide. Or four and a half by three if she uses big steps, or ten by seven if she uses little steps. Once she almost measured it by walking on her hands, but realised in time that they undoubtedly have cameras on her, and that way anyway madness lies.

She has a bed and a desk and The Merchant of Venice and algebra and the First World War to keep her company, and through the barred window she can see a bit of sky if she kneels down and puts her cheek against the wall.

They are, she knows, being generous.

"You will be expected to stay under guard until such time as an appropriate judgement can be made. Do you have any questions?"

She hadn't, really. She'd always been quick, and watching the slow sunset in the barren garden had given her more time than she'd needed. There'd been no need to ask. None at all.

But she had anyway.

"At the behest of yourself he sent most of the defenders away from the caern heart so that he could meet privately with you and whoever it was he was expecting."

They'd told her he trusted her, and they'd been right. He'd been so grateful to find one of his own blood who didn't hate him, who might even love him in time, that he'd been willing to do whatever she told him. It had been easy.

"We know that you brought his body and the bodies of his family to the quarry nearby, and we know that you cut out their eyes."

Somewhere his Gathering would be happening without her. His maimed body would be burned, his spirit sent away. She would never see him. She would never be able to tell him what she had been trying to do. She would never be able to ask his forgiveness.

"You will be expected to stay under guard until such time as an appropriate judgement can be made. Do you have any questions?"

They undoubtedly have cameras on her. She stands up and walks across to the window. The room is seven paces long, and five and a half paces wide. Or four and a half by three if she walked in Crinos, like a metis would do. There is nothing she can do to make herself forget.

"We know that you brought his body and the bodies of his family to the quarry nearby, and we know that you cut out their eyes."

They undoubtedly have cameras on her. She refuses to cry. The room is seven paces long, and five and a half paces wide, and that way madness lies.