The Weavling

Chapter 3

"Eleanor!" Abby shrieked, pulling her out of her thoughts. Eleanor smiled at her sister as she came running, her dark hair bouncing up and down.

"I get to do more training!" Abigail told her. "The other kids are super excited that I get to join them!" Eleanor led Abby through the doorway and back into the bright sunlight of the kingdom outside. The Castle Benning's bannered towers loomed in front of them. Their dark, stony appearance contrasted greatly with the brilliant blue sky that brightened the kingdom. Eleanor stared up at their stained glass windows, wondering which part of the huge building her parents were in.

"Aren't you happy for me?" Abby asked, her shoulders drooping. Eleanor quickly reassured her.

"Of course I am, Abby! I'm just surprised, that's all. I wasn't expecting this so soon."

"Ms. Alton says that when I grow up, I could be a Weaver like her. She said I could teach or be an interrogator or anything else! I don't know what an interrogator is, but teaching would be fun," Abby said. Eleanor suddenly felt anxious. Her little sister as an interrogator, using her powers to get information out of prisoners?

"Well, you don't need to think about what you want as a job for a long time. You're still my little one, you know," she said. Abby looked up at her and stuck her tongue out.

"I'm not little," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm old enough to stay at school, so I'm practically a grown-up." Eleanor laughed.

"Then you're old enough to pack your own bag for the stay," she replied. Abby backpedaled immediately.

"Ok, maybe I'm still little," she consented, "but I'm just as good at Weaving as any of the older kids. Watch!" Abigail stared intently at a nearby rhododendron bush. Eleanor felt a tug as the Threads of the plant and the air around it warped to accommodate Abby's wishes. A single pink flower twisted off of the bush, floating lazily towards Eleanor. She plucked it out of the air. Abby was beaming at her.

"Good job," Eleanor praised, rubbing the soft petals of the flower between her fingers. "What did you work on in class today?"

"Not moving our fingers around when we Weave," Abby said. "Did you see me do it just now?" Eleanor smiled at her.

"I did, and you did it very well," she said. "How many of the others can do that?"

"Just Dominic," Abby said dismissively, "but he's mean."

"How is he mean?" Eleanor asked. Abby made a face.

"He does stuff when Ms. Alton isn't looking. Sometimes he pokes me with quills, and he Weaves some of my friends into talking when they aren't supposed to, to get them in trouble."

"Dominic Weaves the other children?" Eleanor asked in concern. Abby nodded, and didn't seem to want to offer any more information.

"Does he Weave you?" prodded Eleanor.

"No, he doesn't do it to me," Abby said. "I don't know why."

Eleanor wondered if Dominic was the evil looking child who had Woven her earlier. It was certainly possible. This new information strengthened Eleanor's hatred of Ms. Alton. If Eleanor could sense when she or anything around her was being Woven, surely a Weaver could. She scuffed her feet on the stones that made up the street as she stewed. Abby bounced along, full of energy as always. Her green cotton dress had bunched up around her chest, and Eleanor made a mental note to ask Meredith to adjust the seams. She would do it herself, but she was awful at tailoring.

The sisters finally made it home. Abigail fumbled with the brass knob on the door.

"This thing is so sticky!" she complained. She gave up and took her hand off the knob, instead forcing it open with her powers. Abby bounded into the house.

"Meredith, guess what!" she shouted. Eleanor followed behind her as she ran into the kitchen. The smell of stew and heavy spices permeated the air. Meredith was tapping salt into a large pot. She turned to face her sisters, wiping her hands onto a baggy apron that hung around her neck.

"What is it, Abby?" she asked. Abby told her, as excited as she had been when she had told Eleanor the news.

"Extended class already?" Meredith asked, brushing away a strand of her blonde hair that had settled onto her face, and dusting it with salt in the process.

"Ms. Alton says that she's ready for it," Eleanor said, trying to keep the skepticism out of her voice, for Abby's sake.

"Is that so? Well, you'll do great!" Meredith assured Abby, who grinned. Meredith crouched down so that her face was level with Abby's.

"Want to help me test the stew?" she whispered conspiratorially, as if she had just shared an important secret. Abby's eyes brightened.

"Yes!" Meredith stood back up and opened a cabinet, handing her enthusiastic sister a small wooden spoon. Eleanor watched her sisters from the doorway, smiling at their antics.

"Want me to start cleaning up around here?" she asked Meredith, who turned towards her.

"That would be perfect, thank you," she replied. "Hopefully we can get everything done before Mother and Father get home." Eleanor nodded once. She picked up a mostly clean rag from the counter, and started to sweep all of the residual dust and spices from Meredith's meal preparation onto the floor.

"I thought you were going to clean up, not move all the dirt from one spot to another," Meredith teased. Eleanor waved the comment off.

"I'm moving it to the floor so I can sweep it with the broom," she explained. "If you would stop getting stuff all over the kitchen, I wouldn't have to." Abby giggled at her sisters' jabs at each other.

"I'm going to go find things I want to bring to Extended," she said, then took off to her room. Meredith waited until she was out of earshot to address Eleanor.

"I can tell that you're worried about her being at school for so long. Don't you think she's ready?" she asked. Eleanor sighed.

"It's not that she isn't ready. She's farther along than most of the other kids in her class."

"So what is it?"

Eleanor left the kitchen momentarily to retrieve a broom from the closet around the corner. She began to sweep up what she had knocked to the floor.

"I don't know, Mer. Something about that teacher of hers doesn't sit right with me. Abigail just told me that one of the boys in her class Weaves the other children." Meredith frowned.

"Are you saying that you think she lets him do it?" she clarified. Eleanor sighed again, brushing at the floor more roughly.

"There's no way she doesn't notice. I have nothing to go on except what Abby told me, but that's what I think." Meredith stirred her pot of stew thoughtfully.

"You'd know better, I suppose. You're the one with training in that sort of thing," she finally said. Eleanor shrugged.

"Speaking of training, I need to go meet with Alicia soon. She told me I needed to come see her as soon as Abigail started a higher training level, so I could practice handling more advanced Weaving," she said.

"Sounds good," Meredith replied. "Hopefully Abigail doesn't advance too quickly for you. I have a friend who's a Weavling caretaker, and apparently her brother is a little menace with his powers."

"Maybe her connection with him isn't as strong as it should be," Eleanor suggested, remembering something her Trainer had told her. "Alicia says that if a caretaker doesn't have a strong bond with their charge, the Weavling may be more likely to be out of control."

"I could ask her," Meredith said. "What should I tell her to look out for if she doesn't know how to tell?" Eleanor was fairly certain of what the warning signs were.

"If I'm not mistaken, she should be having strange dreams most nights," Eleanor said. "I know I do, and Abby and I have a fairly strong connection." Eleanor remembered her nightmare from the night before.

"I'll let her know," Meredith said.

"Don't take my word for it," Eleanor warned her. "She should really ask her Trainer."

Both sisters were startled by a loud, jarring knock at the front door. Eleanor handed Meredith the broom to finish sweeping, and bolted to the door. She braced herself, and pulled it open.