She was nudged awake the next morning by the girl, whose name she had learnt was Coldspring. Breakfast was porridge from the pot, again in strange silence, and then they were out of the house and away, children scattering with sudden laughter. Somebody had found her a homespun linen dress and a ribbon to tie her hair back, the dress was a bit too long and very brown, but anything was better than the layers of petticoats and pleating she had been wearing the day before.

She wanted to question the strange behaviour, but it was barely past dawn and she was still rattled from being shoved awake and from her journey the day before, so she kept her mouth shut until they were back at the den under the willow tree.

For most of the morning, it was just her and Shortfire, lounging on the cushions and meandering around the clearing. At one point she found herself standing with her hand on the trunk of the ancient tree, staring up into the branches. The fronds hung like moss, and now that she paid more attention she could see that some of the branches were so long, they had been planted back into the ground, where they were slowly turning into their own trees, an impenetrable wall.

As she held her hand against that tree, she missed her brother again, the ache in her very soul. He would have loved it, he would have given it a name and spoken to it and encouraged it to grow for another thousand years. But he was gone, and no matter how tightly she held his image in her heart, she would never have his talent.

It was a physical pain, but it was one she was learning to live with.

Behind her, there was a scuffle, as somebody entered the area, and she turned to see Plumsweet, with a small basket of what looked like apples. The girl looked at her for a while, and then up at the tree, before setting the basket down. "You got magic?"

Rattleglass hesitated, and then shook her head, "nah."

"Shame." She kicked at the basket of apples, and from the pile of grubby cushions emerged a Shortfire.

"Fruit!" she exclaimed, jumping at the apples like a cat, and Plumsweet cracked the first smile that Rattleglass had seen her make, before throwing herself down on the pile, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling.

"Guess you're wonderin' about this place then, your majesty?"

"I'm not royalty," Rattleglass murmured, settling down on the edge of a log, "wouldn't be here if I was, but, I guess?"

Plumsweet rolled her eyes, and threw her arms behind her head, "ain't that the truth. We're all here for some reason or another."

She huffed through her nose, and then continued speaking. "Lil Shortfire over there, they're here cause their parents wanted a boy."

Shortfire nodded, and Rattleglass looked confused. "I don't… I don't get it?"

Plumsweet shrugged, as much as somebody lying down on a pile of cushions can shrug, "neither do they." A hard laugh. "I'm here cause my sister didn't want me around no more. Some kids are here cause their parents couldn't look after 'em, some, who knows."

She rolled over, leaning her chin on her fists and looking at Rattleglass. "So, what's your story?"

Rattleglass bit her lip, and then opened her mouth to speak. She wanted to say it, wanted to say out loud, 'yes my parents are dead'. She wanted to have those words come out of her mouth smoothly and easily and have them impact the world in the same way they had impacted her, like the first thundering boom before the whole mountain came crashing down, but instead, she simply shrugged, looking away, "Does it matter?"

"Mm. You're gonna have to meet the Upstairs at some point." She kept her chin on her hands, and somewhere overhead a pigeon hooted, a two-toned, mournful noise. "Better have your story straight by then."

"My story?"

"Mm," she licked her lips, thinking for a moment, before sitting up straight, her fists on her knees, balancing on the cushion, "They don't… How do I put this…"

Rattleglass waited, and next to her Shortfire reached out, grabbing a second apple from where the basket had overturned, causing her to almost overbalance, "They don't really… Like children here?"

Rattleglass frowned, "isn't this supposed to be an orphanage?"

Plumsweet and Shortfire shared a glance, "In theory" she started, a diplomatic tone to her voice, "yea', but… You're an orphan then?"

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Rattleglass shrugged, "I guess…"

"Ah" Plumsweet reached down and grabbed an apple, tossing it to her, and Rattleglass fumbled as she caught it. "Well. Sucks for you I guess." She shrugged. "So, you're gonna have to meet the Upstairs at some point, so here's how you gotta be."

-

The explanation took some time. "The House" was owned by two elderly women, who had gotten lucky with fortunes early on in life. They had been partners for years, but, Plumsweet made clear, you weren't ever to mention that in their presence. They would deny it until their dying day, for reasons none of the kids quite understood, but that was just how things were.

You had to be out of the house by breakfast time, unless you were one of the kids who was seeing to the house that day. Today it was the jobs of Cloverstep and Teapot. They had to stay behind and make sure that the Upstairs, as the two women were referenced, had cooked food and hot tea throughout the day, as well as do the cooking and cleaning. The kids divvied the jobs up between themselves over the course of the week. Food came in once a week and if they needed something, they were to request it from the Upstairs.

Shortfire had been up there yesterday to look out for Rattleglass and tidy up a bit, as they knew she was arriving, but it was a special case. While you were in the house you had to be quiet, so as not to disturb the upstairs.

"There's no servants?" Rattleglass had asked at one point, and Plumsweet did her favourite thing and rolled her eyes, flopping over onto her back and gesturing at the sky, "we are the servants, dumdum. Where are you even from."

You had to be back in by sundown, and once a week there was an inspection to make sure everyone was still present and hadn't run away, and… That was it. When you were fifteen you were expected to leave, but until then, just do whatever. Just don't draw attention to yourself. The women never left their room or garden, so as long as they stuck to the rules, everything would be fine.

The rules of the house seemed a bit arcane, but she guessed she'd figure it out as she went along. Otherwise, it seemed like a pretty good deal. There was food, there was lodging, she wasn't expected to work, it could be much worse. Would be much worse if she tried to run away, but why would she.

Over the course of the explanation, a couple of the other kids had filtered in, and added their own knowledge and opinions, until she felt rather overwhelmed. The dress was scratchy and a little too tight, and her hands itched to Change it until it fit, until the inside was as smooth as silk. It wouldn't last, the material wanted to be either what it was, or dirt, but she could have held the magic in place as long as she was wearing it.

Or she could have, once. But she didn't do that anymore.

None of the other kids had Talent, which she found strange, but apparently those kids got shipped to other places.

When she had asked about that, one of the youngest children, a boy named Teapot had silently stood up and left. The others had watched in silence, waiting until he was gone.

"He had a sister," Shortfire said, from where they were still submerged in cushions, only their arms visible, held high up in the air, hands cradling a well-polished apple. "She went to some stupid school and he ended up here, better not talk about it."

Rattleglass nodded, and another spike of pain shot through her chest. She understood.

-

The next two days were more of the same. Strange, silent meals, and then days spent either hanging about under the willow or exploring the nearby woods. There weren't even any farms nearby, the house was almost entirely isolated, the woods always encroaching. There was, they informed her, a hired mage who came once a week to check on that sort of thing, but none of the children had ever spoken to them. They just did their job and then left.

The third day was when she was finally summoned. Apparently, this was normal and was to give the new children "time to settle", but Rattleglass suspected that it was really either indifference or apathy.

It was the first time she had been upstairs, and she was struck by the contrast. While the downstairs was gloomy, with neglected and child-worn rooms, the upstairs was light. The walls had been repainted recently and the windows were large and clean, thrown open to let light in. The whole upstairs consisted of one large room, separated into sections with soft furnishings or bookshelves. In one corner, a sleeping area, in another by a stove, a small place set aside for reading in the evenings. Doors on one side led to what she assumed was a water closet, and there were stairs leading up to the roof, from which came the scent of flowers.

It couldn't have been a bigger contrast.

With a lazy wave she had been directed to stand near the stairs, and she had waited there, looking around the room. The two women didn't stand up off their couch, their backs to her. From what she could see though, they were very similar in appearance, both dressed the same and roughly the same height. For a moment she almost looked at them properly, to see what was magic and what was the genetic lottery, but she didn't do that anymore, and either way, it would be a massive invasion of privacy.

She stood there for what felt like hours, but which was probably only around ten minutes, until they deigned to get up and look at her.

"She's a skinny one, love" the first woman said, poking her in the ride. Rattleglass tried not to flinch, keeping her mouth in a firm line, her eyes narrowed.

"That hair though!" the second woman admired, running her fingers through it. She was lucky that her hair didn't tangle easily, and with the help of the other kids she had washed it with water from the pump outside the day previous, so it fluffed around her like a pink cloud, the ribbon barely holding it back.

"You're not going to be trouble, right?" The first woman asked, and Rattleglass shook her head, biting her lip.

"Good" the second woman nodded, letting go of her hair. "You may go now."

And with a wave, both of them lost interest in her.

Another child might have asked why they were here, what was expected of them. Would she go to school at any point? She had always had tutors, until everything went wrong, but normal kids went to school right?

But, with one last look back at that beautiful room, she turned, and headed back down the stairs.