Chapter 6: Amaia Says It

Gotzon met me at the kitchen passage with the ledger under his arm and a face I had not seen on him yet.

"The master has changed his mind about the letters," he said.

"There are forty men in the quarry gang.

"A boy who does not belong in the hall will be sent down to them on Monday."

"For how long?" I asked.

"Until the spring," Gotzon said.

The quarry was three miles down the river in a cold pit of blasted rock.

Men went down in the grey before dawn and came up after dark, and what they did all day was swing hammers at stone.

I had seen quarrymen at the fair, with their hands cracked open and their shoulders bent forward.

There was no door in a quarry, no cloister and no east door left open.

There were forty men sleeping in one hut and bathing in one pool, and in a hut like that, a cap would not stay on for a week.

"Why?" I said.

"I asked him the same," Gotzon said.

"He told me, 'The boy sees too much.'"

Gotzon looked at me for a moment, sorrowful.

"I think he wants to be sure what you are," he said.

"I think it is a bad way to find out."

I walked across the cloister with my stomach cold.

Amaia was waiting at the door of the spinning room.

I had told her nothing about the quarry, but she saw my face and came across the yard to meet me.

"What is it?" Amaia said.

"Nothing," I said.

"Itziar."

"Don't use that name."

"There's no one here," she said, and there wasn't.

The yard was empty at the second bell, with the women at their wheels and the men at their chores.

She took my sleeve.

"The cook's girl heard the master and Gotzon in the passage.

"He means to send you to the quarry.

"I heard it too.

"You can't go.

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