Page 9

“So I see.”

“From the Council of Seven.”

Jory makes a small sound behind me.

The footman extends the scroll. Thick pale parchment is tied with black cord. A disk of crimson wax seals the knot.

I study the impression before accepting it.

Seven rings interlock around the edge, one for each seat on the Matrons’ Council. At the center lies a second mark pressed over the first, a staff crossed by three vertical cuts.

Matron Zira.

I have seen her mark on breeding registrations, household transfers, and decrees assigning human children to whichever spire requires them. Zira oversees lineage and population growth. Humans in Galmoleth’s shadow learn her authority early, even if we never see her face.

The footman raises the scroll. “You must accept it.”

I take it. The wax feels cold beneath my thumb. A faint pulse moves through the seal, proof that the message remains unopened.

“Break the seal,” he says.

“I know how a summons works.”

“I am required to witness receipt.”

The rules always become more precise when used against humans.

I set the scroll on the counter and reach for my bone-handled knife. Jory watches from behind the drying frame, holding himself so rigidly that he may soon require treatment.

The blade passes beneath the cord. The enchanted wax flashes red, then dulls.

I unroll the parchment.

There are only four lines.

Beatrix Ferryman, human apothecary registered beneath the western district of Ti’lith, will present herself to the Council of Seven at dawn tomorrow. Attendance is compulsory. Delay or refusal will be treated as defiance of royal authority.

No accusation.

No stated purpose.

No indication whether I am expected to bring records, medicine, or a defense.

Zira’s personal mark closes the message.

I read it again, searching for some qualification hidden inside the formal language. The parchment offers none.

“Well?” the footman asks.

“I am summoned.”

“At dawn.”

“I can read.”

“You will require an escort into the upper spire. Present that scroll at the western ascent. A guard will take you from there.”

The western ascent serves the Council district. Humans do not enter without ownership marks or official permission. I have passed beneath its shadow carrying medicine to servants who meet me below. Tomorrow, the guards will open it for me.