The Glacier of the Clayr, usually full of busy blonde–haired women and children, was empty. They all stood in the Great Hall, gathered together by the Nine Day Watch; the only Clayr absent were the ones who guarded the path to the Observatory.

The hall was silent.

Tori looked over the teeming mass of blue–robed children, who grouped together out of fear and comfort. A few whispered, only to be shushed by the presiding Guardian, Kirrith. The older Clayr kept trying to give her other tasks, let another, more lenient woman take on the role of looking after the orphaned children, but Kirrith seemed to be the only one who could keep the peace in the Hall of Youth.

Kirrith had only talked to Tori once that she could remember, when she was nine and accidentally broke the mirror in the Hall of Youth. Her friend Alis, who'd lost her mother to a sweating sickness a few weeks before, had been scared of the other orphans and of sharing a bathroom with them, so Tori snuck some paint from the studios and painted a border around the mirror, Alis and her mother's initials intertwined and charter marks for warmth and comfort on the corners.

It wasn't her fault she'd accidentally painted a mark for "fracture" instead of "love"; nor did she understand that charter marks were not to be used for decoration. Come to think of it, she still didn't agree with that particular rule. Among others.

Tori's mother had bargained Kirrith down from working in the Infirmary to double dish duty in the Middle Refectory for two weeks, while Tori cowered behind her mother, clutching her flowing white robes and crying honest, terrified tears. Kirrith, apparently, could have that effect on other Clayr when she was angry.

Her mother stood next to her now, but she brushed her younger daughter away whenever she tried to take hold of her arm. She wouldn't even look at her.

Tori would have rathered to stand with the children, or the younger Clayr with the Sight, one blonde–haired head among hundreds of others. She wasn't that tall, either, she could've been anonymous, completely unseen–

Too late to think about that now. She'd made her mistake, now she had to live with it. If only the Nine Day Watch had foreseen it.

She'd only had her Awakening three weeks previously.

The members of the Nine Day Watch stood above Tori and her mother on the dais, grouped together and led by the twins Sanar and Ryelle, who unsurprisingly were the watch's Voice. They were talking, whispering about the Library and the Abhorsen, and the Wallmakers. Tori couldn't remember what the Wallmakers were, but it sounded serious.

Tori closed her eyes and thought about whatever punishment would be inflicted on her. Her mind wandered from the tame, boring extra kitchen duty to the horrible: thrown off the glacier; banished to the North like some whispered had happened to other Clayr; sent south to Ancelstierre where the Charter didn't exist and the Sight drove Clayr insane; forced to dig her own grave and dumped down into it, cold ground, tight walls contracting and falling down on her and the murmuring of the other dead Clayr and she didn't –

The voices roared in her head, the laughter and worries and shouting and all the Clayr, they were too loud and too close and the walls were coming in and Tori couldn't see, she couldn't think. She clapped her hands over her ears and shook, get the noise gone, make it leave, tears streaming down her face, go, go go go

She felt hands. Hands, on her arms, burning, prickling on the skin. Voices, her mother's voice, Tori stop it, Tori I'm serious, Tori are you all right, Tori Tori Tori

She tore herself away from the hand. She had to stay awake, she had to calm down. She forced her eyes open, hot tears and pain closing them again, and again and again. Stay awake, stop shaking, stop it. Too much light, noise, too close to her.

Light–haired women massed around her, she was on the floor now, head pressed into the ground, no she wanted them gone. She took her hands away from her ears, push them away, but the noise roared, all the voices in her head and she couldn't hear herself think and –

Tori what's going on, Tori what do you need, Tori drink this water.

The light blared and the noise boomed and Tori felt more hands on her arms, stronger than her mothers. She tried to push them away but they held, dragged her out of the circle of Clayr and through the crowd she could barely see. She was still shaking but not as much, and one hand left, pushed open a door and pulled her through.

Darkness. It was dark, and quiet and cool.

Tori opened her eyes.

It was pitch dark, the room. It was quiet, too, even though she could hear the rest of the Clayr outside, undoubtedly talking about her. She felt herself relax, stopped shaking and sat down on the floor. Her mind unclenched, uncoiled from the panic. She could feel the tears on her cheeks, though she wasn't crying anymore.

The realization of what she'd done hit her, knocked her breath out. She buried her head in her hands and sobbed.