Chapter 25: The Copies

Tamsin was sharpening pencils on the dry room's table when Ilan came in, and she kept sharpening. Eleven lay in a row, points all one way. The candle stub beside them had burned to the width of a thumb. "No," he said. "You have not heard the question." She blew shavings off the blade. "It is the twentieth. Marshal Vale has opened an examination of the lodging register. He needs a true count of occupants before he can hold Fen's arm any longer." "I know. I was in the yard when he said it." "Then you know he named me his copyist for the afternoon." She set the knife square to the table edge. "I will be in the Hall until the dusk bell, in the copy room, with eleven reduction years open in front of me." Two days had passed since she came up the channel. The pawl had…