Dream d2558-s: The Unread Dial

I had a dream where...

I had a dream where the ledger room held its breath for the eighth night running, and I sat with the record open before me while Lano turned twice at my feet and settled.

The reading-house had sent word that it wished to know what the count had found, and so I had come prepared with the figures: four gone cold - Elderhaven, Glenholt, Mistgarth, Sablegate - and three still carrying light - Cinderfirth, Ivorymere, Nettleness. Two seats had been formally closed: the Council Hall and the Scriptorium Annex, retired as cleanly as one retires a heading from a column of figures.

The Lens-Keeper received this without ceremony. She was adjusting one of the brass instruments along the window ledge, a sighting device that had not given a clean reading in several days, and she did not stop working while I read the tally aloud. Rurik had taken a position on the high shelf above the lenses, his tail hanging over the edge, watching her hands.

The difficulty, I said, was that all seven had been unreadable from the Hall tonight. The instrument had failed before the count could be confirmed in the usual way. I had used what remained of the previous readings, accurate to within a reasonable margin, but the margin was wider than I would have liked.

The Lens-Keeper set down the adjustment tool and looked out the tall windows at the dark. The windows were open. There was no wind.

She said: the sightings will need checking again in spring.

I wrote that down. It was the only thing she said.

Lano pressed her flank against my calf for a moment, warm, then walked to the window and sat looking out at what the lenses could not currently see. Rurik blinked once, slow, and resumed his stillness on the shelf.

I closed the record. The four cold places were entered. The three lit ones were entered. The two closed seats were entered. The spring check was noted at the bottom of the page.

The reading-house now knew what it had made possible.

---