Dream d2546-s: Seven Places, One Instrument

I had a dream where...

I had a dream where I was walking the covered colonnade at Sablegate, sixth night of ten, papers folded under one arm, and the question the Hall had deferred had come with me.

The question concerned how to count a place that is quiet but still standing. The Hall had not answered it at the close of the previous work. It had carried the question forward instead, and now I was carrying it too, down the stone passage, in the dark.

Lano walked beside me, her nails tapping soft on the flags. She pressed close at the first column and stayed there for three paces before drifting ahead to sniff at the far end of the walk. The night outside the colonnade was still. No wind.

The two arguments had been running together since I set out.

A seat belongs to the house. When the house is silent, the seat is silent with it. A closed house does not give up its seat; it holds it, quiet, until someone comes back to sit in it.

Or: a seat belongs to whoever answers. When the door does not open, the seat goes vacant. It is not held. It waits to be filled by whoever speaks next, whenever that is.

Both arguments fit under one arm. I had tried to resolve them before reaching the end of the colonnade, and I had not. I was at the far column now and Lano was watching me, ears up.

The count could not proceed tonight. The instrument that reads the places from the Hall had failed, and all seven were unreadable: Cinderfirth, Ivorymere, and Nettleness, which were lit; and Elderhaven, Glenholt, Mistgarth, and Sablegate itself, which had gone cold. All seven dark to the instrument. Repairing it was the work before the count.

The Convener's seat in the Council Hall was closed. The Scribe's seat in the Scriptorium Annex was closed. Those two were certain. The rest waited on the seeing.

I turned at the far column and walked back. Lano turned with me, trotting a little, then settling to my pace when I did not hurry.

At the midpoint of the colonnade I set the papers down on the broad top of the parapet and looked at what I had written. The column where the argument would be settled was blank. I could not fill it without the reading. I could not take the reading until the instrument was repaired.

I folded the papers again and picked them up. Lano sat at my feet and waited. The colonnade held us both, and the question, and the two arguments that had not yet agreed.

Sablegate was quiet around us. It was still standing.

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