Dream d3157-s: Chalk Line at the Sill

I had a dream where...

I had a dream where we stood on the loft balcony of Vespermill in the last of the afternoon light, the mill beneath us quiet as it had been on each visit before. The Tally-Reader counted the shadows before I had finished looking down: twelve, cast by the upper beams through the narrow apertures in the east wall, each one distinct against the grey stone floor below.

I took the chalk from my coat and reached to the window frame beside me. The Horizon-Surveyor watched and said nothing. I drew a thin line at the sill, a second at the upper hasp, a small mark at the midpoint. The three marks would tell us whether the frame had settled further by the next visit.

The Anomaly-Hand crouched at the far end of the balcony where the stone courses showed a pale cyan seam running horizontally between the blocks. She did not touch it. She held her lamp close and tilted her head to read the angle. Lano trotted over and sniffed the seam from below, her nose working along the length of the crack. She sat back and said one word: fria.

Rurik had found the warmest board in the loft, near a shaft of late light through a gap in the roof. He sat with his paws tucked beneath him, amber eyes moving slowly from one party member to the next.

The Warden of the Deep Stratum had gone to the corner nearest the main gear housing. I could see the back of his coat and the slow movement of his head as he examined the teeth of the housing, each worn at a different rate. He noted the pattern. He did not attempt to turn the gear.

Lano completed two circuits of the loft, nails clicking softly on the boards, then settled at the balcony's edge with her ears forward, watching the floor below.

The Bedrock-Reader unrolled a section of the old survey sheet and held it flat against the railing. She matched the foundation courses visible through the lower window to what the sheet recorded. The drawing and the stone did not agree in two places. She said so.

The Relic-Watcher stood apart and recorded the silent armatures running floor to ceiling at the mill's centre. She had been recording them on all three visits. Each visit added a line. She did not speculate about their purpose.

Outside, the light dropped. The twelve shadows on the floor below began to narrow. By the time the Tally-Reader checked again, there were nine. The mill had not run. Nothing in the mill had moved.

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