Warmoon [ONC 2020]•[Shortlisted]•[Honorable Mention List, Stunning Worlds]

6. Spraknost

The next morning, Rhoa rose early. Her headache hadn't improved. The idea that the Vanguard had somehow influenced the hum of the tower had only added dull irritation to a sleepless night. Her conversation with the man – what sort of a name was Kryphan, anyway? – had gone racing about in her brain like a frightened bat trapped in a round room. She wasn't looking forward to talking to him again, not if he and that blasted rumbling in the ground were somehow connected.

"Are you waiting for it to move?"

Her mother's voice dragged her abruptly from sleep-deprived stupor, and Rhoa blinked, her eyes focusing on the poached egg in the bowl in front of her. She didn't know how long she had been staring at it. With a sigh, she stabbed the egg with her spoon and began mopping up the gooey orange yolk with a chunk of toast.

The toast didn't make it to her mouth. She fiddled absently with it instead while she studied her mother askance across the table. That question was still there, flitting along the edges of her thoughts. She should ignore it. She really should. But if she didn't ask, it would only keep bothering her.

After a moment, she cleared her throat. "I um... I was just wondering... You've never heard anything about our monster getting loose, have you?"

Her mother glanced up from her supply ledger. "No," she said, lifting her half-spectacles from her nose and tucking them in the top pocket of her apron. "Why?"

Rhoa pressed her lips into a grim line and looked down.

"Ah. I see. He's already started on you. I suppose that's to be expected..." She sat back and closed the ledger, then gave the question more serious thought. "I've never heard of any of the monsters escaping, but that doesn't mean they haven't. Still, I would think there would be some record of it, somewhere. Letters to the other towers, reports from the Council... I haven't come across anything in the archives here or in the Keeper's Vault in Lubelin."

Then she peered closely at Rhoa. "Questions are important. You shouldn't accept what you're told without weighing it first, even if you trust the person telling you." She paused and smiled a little. "Just... Keep in mind, the Vanguard have been around since the Keepers began, and they have been at war with us for centuries. You've never had to worry about them since they were driven out before you were born, but they were still strong in the Seventh District when I was a child. I remember the sieges, the raids... The graves... My father's brother and sister, and his first wife and their infant son, were killed in one of the attacks on Greycliff."

"So," she continued, smiling again as she got to her feet. "This is good. Question your beliefs, by all means. But at the same time, don't get pulled in. The Vanguard hold to creeds that go against everything we value. While our ancestors sought a way to contain the monsters, they sought ways to harness the dark power of the Warmoon for themselves. They claim to be able to wield magic. We must rely on science and reason. Right now, we need to keep our priorities straight and start churning the clay for the tower. Questions can wait."

Rhoa bit her lower lip as her mother bent and placed a kiss on the crown of her head before leaving the kitchen. 

She was right. They needed to start making the saltpeter clay or they wouldn't have enough.

She shot a worried look at the rain pattering against the diamond panes of the kitchen windows. Having enough clay to mud the tower wouldn't do much good if it all washed away while they were working. They would have to put up the shroud if the storm didn't end soon.

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After breakfast, Rhoa went down and tended to the prisoner, holding her breath at the smell of him as she fed him gruel, then unlocking the shackle bar and stepping out into the hallway while he relieved himself in the privy bucket. He was clearly in pain from sitting so long, but didn't protest, and didn't try anything. And thankfully, he didn't talk, simply returning to let her shackle him to the wall again, those dark eyes following her every move as she locked him up and left him there.