Chapter 12: Inspection

I took the seat in the very last row, where the shadows were deepest.

My hands were sweating.

Duane Pettibone moved his chair to the side wall, where he could see both the teacher and the class.

He wrote something on his clipboard.

The students trickled in at ten to eleven, shaking snow off their coats.

Winona came last, with her Thermos.

She took one look at the inspector and sat down next to me without a word.

She put a cup of tea in my hand.

"Drink," she whispered. "Cough means danger. Two coughs mean run."

"What does run mean?"

"I haven't worked that out."

Anselm stood at the front under the lamp wall, in his gray vest.

His left cuff was buttoned.

He looked pale, and very tall, and entirely calm.

"Good evening," he said. "Tonight, as you can see, we have a visitor from the county. Mr. Pettibone will observe. Please carry on as usual."

The class murmured.

Duane lifted his pen politely.

"Mr. Corday," he said. "I'll ask you to demonstrate the four core casts. Lamp, warm-hand, mend and lock. Unassisted."

"Of course."

"Lamp first. The whole wall, please."

There were fourteen brass lamps.

I held my breath.

Anselm lifted both hands, palms open.

He breathed in for four.

He did not look at the lamps.

His eyes lifted over the whole room and the heads of eight students, and found me, in the back, with Winona's tea in my hands.

I did nothing.

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