Read Online Crewel by Gennifer Albin - Free Book Online

sent your measurements to the mill last night and this is the start of your wardrobe,’ she tells me, busily plucking through the hangers and pulling out a brilliant green dress and a charcoal suit. I hear her murmur something like ‘lovely’ to herself.
    ‘I know we have a dress code, but is there a reason I have to get so decked out?’ I ask as she pulls another satin evening gown from the rack.
    ‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ she asks with her back to me.
    ‘Yes.’ And it’s the truth. ‘But where am I going to wear this?’ I hold up a slinky grey dress. I’ve always understood why career women need to dress neatly for their bosses – my mother sported suits with gold buttons and pressed lapels to the office daily – but I can’t imagine weaving in an evening gown.
    ‘It’s one of the perks. Every girl attends her share of Guild dinner parties and then of course there’re the Bulletin reports. You’ll have occasion to wear them, but nothing this extravagant for everyday weaving,’ Enora assures me. ‘Sometimes the Guild calls girls who are very talented but lack the finesse necessary to work on the looms. It would be wasteful to put them to work in the quarters or in the kitchen, so they go to work as our seamstresses.’
    ‘What if I don’t want to wear things like this?’ I try to keep the challenge out of my voice, but it slips through anyway.
    Enora stares at me, not blinking, before she answers, ‘Would you waste these girls’ talents?’
    ‘Why not send them home?’ I immediately wish I could take the question back as her eyes flash to me and then to the garment rack.
    ‘No one goes home,’ she responds evenly, but there’s an edge to her voice and her fingers tremble as they weed through my new wardrobe.
    ‘I guess I knew that.’
    ‘That won’t be an issue for you,’ she chirps, clearly trying to lighten the mood. ‘You should know that whatever you say to me stays between us.’
    This strikes me as exactly the kind of thing you say when you’re a spy, but my gut wants to believe her, so I merely nod.
    ‘Good.’ Enora saunters over to sit on the cushion next to mine and lowers her voice. ‘What I saw you doing, Adelice – weaving without a loom. Have you done that before?’
    It takes a moment to realise she is referring to the storm earlier. ‘Yes. Not often, though.’
    ‘And you don’t need any instruments?’ she presses, her voice the hint of a whisper.
    ‘No.’ I’m confused, but I whisper along with her. ‘I’ve always been able to do it that way. But the windows aren’t real . . .’
    She nods conspiratorially.
    ‘Of course not. Glass is breakable, and the Guild wants the Spinsters kept secure. It’s basically a large screen created to look like a window. There’s a special programme coded to run scenic views throughout the compound. There are no real windows. Nearly every wall here is a giant screen programmed to specific images. We have seasons and everything. Most girls never notice it’s a programme.’
    ‘It looks so real, but I wondered why I could touch it,’ I murmur.
    Fear flashes through her chocolate-brown eyes.
    ‘I need you to trust me. You must never tell anyone else you can do that. Always use a loom to weave – try not to do it without one, even when you are alone.’
    I raise my eyebrows. Her words remind me of the boy from the prison and his admonition to play dumb. They are keeping me alive, these kind tips from mysterious strangers. I consider telling her about my slip at testing, and that I’m sure Cormac already knows, but I’m not sure what good it would do.
    ‘So they’re like vlip screens then?’ I clarify.
    ‘Almost exactly, but much higher-tech than the ones available for home use. The images are more realistic.’
    She’s right. I had thought it was a real window before I touched it and found it was so easy to manipulate. Something’s bothering me though about how I changed the rainstorm. ‘If someone else were to