OOM: Caught
The Clayr had a saying: ‘That which is hidden, cannot stay that way for long.’ It was a good enough proverb for a people blessed with Vision. How could anything be hidden when the sisters of the Clayr could See everything? Lirael lay there; un-Sighted, un-Seen and yet somehow they found her. Buried in a pile of snow, spying on their secret meeting. Even an ignorant child like her knew the importance of such a meeting and that she should not have been there. A discussion between the King, the Abhorsen (wife to the King, but something much more important - she kept the dead from overrunning the land and bringing ruin to all) and the seven most powerful Clayr was something very private indeed.
It wasn’t a surprise that they had looked angry, Mirelle - Commander of the Rangers - wrinkling her nose in distaste, making Lirael feel guiltier than ever. Yet good things had come of it. Knowing that the Sight did not come to some until even later in life had given Lirael a quiet hope. A blossoming seed which she dare not look directly at in case it should wither from the power of her gaze. They offered her more than that; they offered her a place in society. That she might belong, ever on the outside, but with a position that merited something other than scorn, she very much wanted that.
The last thing Lirael thought, before the glowing Marks of Ryelle’s spell closed over her head was a small but determined idea that she was going to be someone. She was going to be a librarian.
“You will recall everything you have done today, save the visit of Sabriel and Touchstone. That memory will be gone, replaced by a walk on the terrace and a chance meeting with us here. You seemed troubled, so we talked of work and the gaining of the Sight. That is how you gained your new post, Lirael. You will remember that and no more.”
The spell closed tightly, like the warm caress of a mother who holds her shivering child tight against the raging fever. When the time came, the girl would remember, but not before.
“Yes.” Lirael whispered, her tongue seeming too thick for her mouth. “The Library. Tomorrow I report to Vancelle.”
It wasn’t a surprise that they had looked angry, Mirelle - Commander of the Rangers - wrinkling her nose in distaste, making Lirael feel guiltier than ever. Yet good things had come of it. Knowing that the Sight did not come to some until even later in life had given Lirael a quiet hope. A blossoming seed which she dare not look directly at in case it should wither from the power of her gaze. They offered her more than that; they offered her a place in society. That she might belong, ever on the outside, but with a position that merited something other than scorn, she very much wanted that.
The last thing Lirael thought, before the glowing Marks of Ryelle’s spell closed over her head was a small but determined idea that she was going to be someone. She was going to be a librarian.
“You will recall everything you have done today, save the visit of Sabriel and Touchstone. That memory will be gone, replaced by a walk on the terrace and a chance meeting with us here. You seemed troubled, so we talked of work and the gaining of the Sight. That is how you gained your new post, Lirael. You will remember that and no more.”
The spell closed tightly, like the warm caress of a mother who holds her shivering child tight against the raging fever. When the time came, the girl would remember, but not before.
“Yes.” Lirael whispered, her tongue seeming too thick for her mouth. “The Library. Tomorrow I report to Vancelle.”