I thought of my wrist in the basin. The attunement circle. Cosima putting one version of what happened into the room and another, maybe, onto the page.
“Maybe none of them,” I said.
Astor tilted his head, studying me.
Waiting for more.
I made myself keep going.
“Not until you know where they were standing.”
Cosima’s eyes flicked up to meet mine for a half second, then dropped back to her page.
Astor nodded slowly.
“Acceptable.”
Around the table, several students began writing very quickly.
Cosima didn’t write whatever her observations were on the Council page.
She opened the small notebook beside it instead.
Astor’s lecture continued. Parallax, he said, was not error. It was the distance between object and witness made visible. A trained reader did not remove the distance. A trained reader recorded it.
I wrote that down.
Then I underlined it.
A trained reader recorded the distance.
When Astor dismissed us, no one stood right away.
Chairs shifted one at a time. Tags were touched, then left where they were. The boy two seats down from me avoided looking at my blank tag as he passed.
Cosima closed the notebook before she folded the Council page.
That told me which one mattered to her.
Then she stood and left without looking at me.
The others followed slowly, still glancing at my blank tag as if it might decide to become interesting while they watched.
I stayed long enough to touch the empty space above my name.
Nothing happened.
That felt less reassuring than it should have.
By the time I found my way back to the dining hall the room was full.
Delphine was alone at a table.
She had bread on her plate but she wasn’t eating it.
When she saw me coming, she lifted one hand.
Barely a wave, really, and self-conscious enough that she almost took it back before I reached her.
