Chapter 17

“Hey, Veille! Mind giving me a hand with my bed?”

I sat up in my bunk and looked across the room. Torvis rarely said anything to me when it was just the two of us – and myself to him – but today, it seemed, that was due for a change.

I swung my legs over and leapt down like I usually did. Today was a rest day; Mannerly Hall was apparently undergoing some maintenance, likely to refurbish the floors and swap out furniture and shelves. This sort of thing only happened once in a blue moon, and in fact, the last day off I could remember having – aside from our weekends – was during the last purge more than a year ago, when it seemed like half the Hall had been uprooted and exchanged overnight.

It had taken me a while of scouting around to realize that mostly, the stuff had just been reorganized. With the sheer size of the Hall that was a huge task in itself; but in some areas the flooring had also been completely replaced, or the crystal chandeliers changed for ones made of lapis, or something similar. Even the ceiling – which I was so used to by now being the way it was, and it seemed to be miles away anyway for all intents and purposes – had been redone in places. A gigantic painting had even been added to the southwest section of the ceiling. It was an abstract depiction of some kind, more liminal than anything, looking kind of spooky as what seemed like faces(?) now stared down at us whenever we walked beneath it.

Today the bunk room was full of the usual crowd, cleaning our beds, making conversation, and otherwise without any idea of how we were supposed to fill the time. Unscheduled days off came so rarely that this one caught us by surprise – much like the fact that Torvis was asking me for help.

Curious, I quickly went over to him. The bed did indeed look a mess; smiling, Torvis handed me one corner of the fitted sheet and proceeded to tuck his in beneath the mattress.

I followed suit, keeping one eye on him. His silence was rather eerie. I was almost convinced he really had asked me over just to help him refit the bed, perhaps in an honest gesture of friendship (one that I hoped I could politely decline) before his blue eyes shifted onto me.

He spoke gruffly, maybe trying to keep his voice low, and failing. “So. I’ve been trying to find out if there are any passages near the Hall that we don’t know about.”

I looked at him in shock. “Passages? As in… hidden passages? What makes you think there would be any?”

He shrugged, returning to his task. “I’m not sure. Just a hunch, I guess. The maidens sometimes come and go in ways that don’t make any sense to me. Do you remember the chamber where Madam Dro had us perform?”

I nodded, not sure where this was going. “Well, the first time I went in there, there wasn’t a door behind the seats – just a solid wall. The clients all left through a different door on the left side of the room. I spoke with Elodie, and she remembers the same.”

He paused. “The thing is, that door was still there when the rest of you went. It took me a moment to see it, but it was there.”

I frowned. “I didn’t notice any other doors in that room. I only know of the one we came through and the one opposite.”

“Exactly. It was well-concealed, and that got me thinking: I believe the other door had been there all along, too, and it was just so well camouflaged that neither Ellie or I noticed it.”

I mulled this over for a moment, during which Torvis passed me the top sheet.

“So?”

“My point is, doors can be hidden anywhere. I mean think about it; how often have you rounded a corner in the Hall and nearly bumped into a servant you didn’t even know was there?”

“That doesn’t really mean anything. The Hall is huge; it would be crazy trying to keep tabs on everyone who occupied it at once. And there’s still plenty of cover.”

“Not that much.”

He glared at me. “Look, just keep it in mind the next time you’re wandering around, alright? I promise I’m not crazy – sometimes, people just appear out of thin air. And it always seems to be near the walls.”

What the hell, it couldn’t hurt to check, right? But I did look at him funny, and asked the obvious: “Why are you talking to me about this?”

He glanced away and shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t really know. I guess it’s because you’re good at making decisions.”

He slapped the pillows back onto his bed and wandered off, probably to go flirt with Ellie.

~

The very next afternoon the renovations to the Hall were complete. Our group took to our lessons the following morning, just as before, while eagerly keeping a look out for any obvious changes.

One caught my eye almost immediately: the nearest column appeared to have changed color.

Not just color, I realized; it looked to be made of a completely different material. All these years I’d thought the massive pillars to be made from brass, judging by their coating and their sheen. The center could very well have been something stronger, of course – it probably was – with only the exterior made to be more aesthetically pleasing.

Now, however, the column shone like a waxed silver, almost mirror-like. I could literally see my reflection in it, though it was distorted.

I jogged on to the next one. It appeared made from silver now, too; and indeed, looking around the Hall from any open spaces I could find, all of the mighty columns which ran its vertical length had been updated to the new color and texture.

That was crazy! Surely they had just been painted or something, right? Obviously not. A new plating, then?

I began wondering for the first time whether the columns were even structurally necessary, and without them, if the ceiling of the Hall would hold up just fine. But surely even a new metal plating across all of these columns would’ve taken weeks to apply – not days, and certainly not just one day, during which we hadn’t even heard the smallest sound of machinery. There had been some commotion out in the Hall, to be sure, but it sounded nothing like the army of carpenters and engineers required for such a task.

The project daunted me, and I wasn’t alone. The others all expressed their shock and awe at the massive shift, as distracting visually as it was conceptually.

I immediately sought out Dornell, as one does when faced by something which defies explanation. I found him standing on a large armchair near the northwest corner of the Hall, wearing the deepest of frowns, as he examined all that he could see of the giant chamber.

 “Hey! Get off that, do you want to get in trouble with the maidens??”

He shrugged and hopped down. “My feet aren’t even dirty. As far as I can tell, the columns have been physically altered – not just recoated. Either it’s some sort of very clever illusion, or the brass has indeed been replaced with silver.”

“That’s impossible.” I shook my head. “How much of the columns do you wager is actually made from it?”

“It’d be impossible to tell for sure without breaking into one. But I think it’s safe to say at least half of their mass. Their centers could still be something else, probably steel, or maybe iron.”

“Of course they are, Dorny! How could somebody possibly swap out an entire pillar like the ones on the Hall?!”

He shrugged again. “It would be easier than replacing just half of it, actually. Unless there’s some sort of amazing engineering trick to it; and honestly, this is wild enough for me to believe either possibility.”

I shook my head, baffled. “So how on earth do you think the Estate managed to accomplish this?”

Dornell stared at me hard. “Sorcery.”