The tight collar of the linen shirt pressed against Ardi’s neck, but he endured it. He had already tried to loosen it once, only to tear the seam. His mother hadn’t said anything, but it was clear that she hadn’t been happy about the extra work.
Over the course of those few days that humans called "weekends," the hunter had figured out a few things. First, everyone in Kelly’s house, and indeed in all of Evergale, had sothing to do. So were hanging laundry, which was lightly steaming in the cold. Others cleared the streets of snow, brushed it off roofs and awnings, and hauled water from the lake, where young n sotis helped with the ice harvest.
And it seed like not everyone had those strange Ley crystals that made the stove and oven work without wood, like in the sheriff’s house. Ardi was constantly seeing people through the window, usually younger folk, carrying bundles of kindling or dismantling piles of wood to then carry heavy armloads of it inside.
Even the little ones had found sothing to do — throwing crumpled snow at each other and making idols out of snow. Ardi couldn’t understand the reason for such behavior, and he didn’t want to ask. Despite his promise to his brother and his grandfather’s words, he still longed to return to the mountain, afraid that if he left the attic room, he wouldn’t be able to resist and would run away.
But the sixth day had passed, the seventh had slipped by unnoticed, and Shaia was now leading him to the "school" with the sheriff. It was that strange building surrounded by a fence, where black and white-clad, young and old people alike would all be waiting in a line to get in. But Ardi didn’t get to et any of them — they’d left before dawn. The hunter still couldn’t get used to the fact that he now wore "boots" on his feet, "underwear" under his pants and shirt, and a heavy, fur-lined coat instead of skins across his shoulders.
Ardi had kept trying to argue that he was actually too warm and that the coat was definitely unnecessary. After all, these were the foothills. It didn’t get cold here. But the townspeople, shivering with every passing gust of wind, had refused to accept such reasoning.
At the entrance to the building, they were t by a gray-haired man in his forties. He was missing several teeth, his face was lined with deep and obviously unhealthy wrinkles, and his worn, crumpled, and occasionally torn clothes reeked of vinegar and alcohol. Ardi even sneezed at his scent.
"Everything will be fine, mada Brian," even his voice had a kind of slurping sound to it. "We’ll keep an eye on Ardi and make sure no one bothers him, and that he doesn’t... cause any trouble himself."
"Thank you, Teacher Kolski," Shaia nodded slightly.
Despite the man’s repulsive appearance, his mother spoke to him with clear respect.
"Sheriff," the teacher tipped his hat.
"Kolski," Kelly nodded back.
And while Shaia might not have noticed Kelly handing the drunkard a few rolled-up bills, Ardi even managed to catch their denomination. Two exes. That’s what they called those strange pieces of paper the people of Evergale exchanged for... well, everything.
"Well, let’s go, boy," the teacher patted him on the shoulder, and they turned out to be almost the sa height.
Ardi looked at the man and, by the Sleeping Spirits, it took all his strength not to grab him by the wrist and throw him sowhere far away. Guta would have been pleased. Ergar might even have paid him a complint for doing such a noble deed, but his mother...
Shaia kept twisting her shawl in her hands, and her lips were pressed together so tightly that they’d ford a thin, pale line.
"I order," Ardi smiled at her, making the teacher tremble. "Not worry. Hunter not harm fool youths. Everything order. I will in den when possible."
The teacher turned to the sheriff, oily eyes wide open, but he just shrugged at him.
Shaia smiled tensely and nodded. "I’ll be waiting," was all she said.
As Kelly led his mother away, she kept turning back to look at Ardi, barely hiding her tears. The hunter still wasn’t used to how soft Shaia had beco. He rembered her as firm and, in so ways, even stern. The kind of person who could climb up to the high peaks of the Alсade the day after giving birth, braving the fierce wind and cold.
But now she’d simply disappeared around the corner, leaving only a faint scent of blackberries in her wake. But even that was soon overpowered by the stench of alcohol.
"Please, Hector’s son, for the sake of your father’s mory," the teacher hiccupped. "Try not to eat anyone on your first day, okay? Face of Light’s tears, what a way to start the week..."
With that, Kolski led Ardi down a wide corridor. Here, the walls were covered with sheets of yellowed paper that had drawings and pictures on them, a huge map reaching up to the ceiling, and several chalkboards. Soone had carefully written the schedules of several classes on them.
Even after the railroad had brought in new settlers, Evergale had remained a small town, so there weren’t many students at the school. For example, Ardi, being twelve years old, was starting in the sixth grade, where there were fourteen others besides him. But they were probably just now waking up and washing, getting ready for the new day.
Kolski interrupted Ardi’s musings. He suddenly stopped and yanked on a door handle, almost tearing it from its hinges.
"Get in," he said curtly. "I warned Teacher Tenebry. She teaches arithtic. She won’t be too hard on you at first. Though you can’t string two words together, so who knows who will be tornting whom."
Ardi didn’t understand why words had to be strung together, but he went inside and imdiately sniffed the air, as his forest friends had taught him. It slled of chalk, flour, flowers, and fear. Looking around, the hunter couldn’t fathom what could’ve possibly frightened the locals. Surely it wasn’t the wide, sowhat worn desks, the round stools, or the two boards. One hung right by the entrance, still bearing the marks of past lessons. The other, at the back of the classroom, doubled as the doors to a rather spacious cabinet.
There was nothing else here but the clock and the chandelier.
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