October 8, 2011, Devokan Trust Office, Touchstone House, Winterfell

It was so nice to meet with Dot last week and talk about things. I was so surprised that both my employer and mentor separately asked me for research drafts and healers’ articles that I was concerned they were thinking about something other than publications. At Dot’s suggestion, I asked them what the situation was. Surprise again! The horrid great-aunt Baroness D’Landria had made it known that my work was of interest to her, and though it would be to my advantage to increase my “sphere of influence” as she put it. That my drafts were mostly drafts seemed not to matter. That the articles published were short and included images of my meditation artwork seemed also not to matter. The point was that I was publishing. I still cannot imaging that she has my best interests in mind.

Then again, she is very old, and rather bitter about life. I would feel more settled about it if she urged me to publish in order to spite someone she didn’t like. Well. No matter. It did give me a reason to put my notes in order.

My conversation with Dot also yielded the answer to another difficult situation. Byron has decided to remodel the shoppe completely. He has asked me to continue preparing artwork for display, to be ready as soon as it reopens. I’ve used the upper floor, which now is torn up again. Dot very kindly allowed me to make use of the upper floor at the Devokan Trust Office in Touchstone House. I am glad there are several windows and that the weather is not yet so cold I can’t keep them open while I paint.

Something else interesting…
Dot wrote:

During a recent conversation, a maintainer friend expressed concern that one of her guild colleagues is missing, and has been for some time. We discussed all sorts of reasons for this, of course, but the idea that they might be on some private, undercover project seemed to me to be the most likely.

I didn’t get the impression she was convinced, however.

Interesting. I had no idea.  I suppose with all the new experimental ages being written, the poor maintainers are likely to find themselves in all sorts of odd places.

I realized my letter to Dot had caused something of a stir among my acquaintances, for which I am apologetic. But what can I really say to them? Of course there is more to it, but I don’t know what they know, those two. And her — what is her true motivation?  Not Dot, of course, but…. her….

Back to silence and obscurity, I suppose. I am rather tired of being unable to say much, especially because what I know is not much. The Professor has asked me to begin working at a new office, too, and that rather adds to my worries. Still, she is so affable that I can’t see any reason to refuse. She did say there was a large garden plot that I could use for the herb garden. That alone will be wonderful!

“Here, dear, these you can look over.  Take them with you and then you can do whatever you want to with them.”

“Hats?”

“Aren’t they nice, dear?”

“But…  I don’t wear hats.  And I already have hats like these two.”  They weren’t really my color.

“Oh, now, now, take them anyway.  You’ll find a place for them.”

“These two look Victorian.  The fabric is interesting.”  I put one of them on my head, and it fit perfectly as if made for me.  ”They’ve held up very well if they are Nineteenth-Century Earth.”   It was a rich green and purple color.  ”Where did these come from?”

“Oh, isn’t that pretty?  That belonged to my grandmother.  She made it herself.”

“Wow.”  I looked at the other vintage hat.  It was a lighter color, and was rather like the new steampunk style.  ”This is from the Victorian era?  It looks like something more modern.”

“Oh I don’t know.  She made it too, I suppose.  She made all her own clothes.  I learned how to sew from her.”

“Oh.”  I set the second hat on my head, tipped it to a saucy angle, and laughed.  ”Tai’lahr would love these for the JoyRides.  I’ll have to show her this one.

“Those boat rides and things you do with that New Age group?”

“Yes, and it is an Old Age, I think, Aunt Dolly.  The group is based on the D’ni Guild of Healers.  Jurel says there are still some D’ni Guildmembers around somewhere.  I’ve never met any, though, or heard more about them.”

“Oh now here we are!”  Dolly exclaimed with success.  I heard rummaging as I took off the hat and set it back into the box with the others.  As I turned toward her, she pulled out a paper-wrapped object.  ”This is what I want you to see.”

I looked, somewhat aghast.  ”An old dress?  Aunt Dolly, I never really got into dress up…”

“My grandmother loved this dress.  You’ll need something, and this will just do the trick!”  She peered up at me of a sudden.  ”Don’t start wrinkling your nose before you even know how fashionable it was when she wore it.  There is nothing wrong with it.”

“I’m not wrinkling my nose!” But I was. “Dolly, it is… green…  that olivey green — ugh, um.”

She shook it out.  I will press it and you can try it on.I frowned at her.

“Need something?  For what?”

“For your new job.”

“A new job?  But I have a job.  I am working on my publication.”

Ignoring me, she walked over to an ironing board I just then realized had been set up already.  ”I know, dear.  You keep working on that, too.  This is something different.  Oh, now, it won’t take up much of your time at all.  You’ll only be teaching some adults about an historical site.  It’s medieval, just like you study already. So don’t start fretting as if you have so much to do you don’t have time for one small thing like this.”  On she went, completely ignoring my protests and questions.  ”There now, that is quite lovely, don’t you think?”  She pointed to a pile of white linen.  ”There are the undergarments.  You go put those on and we’ll see how well she made this.”

At my look she stopped and met my eyes.  ”Go on, you are going to need something, and you don’t have time to shop.”

“Dolly!”

“Now Ghaelen, don’t argue!  Just put it on!”  Her voice was loud; unusual for my Aunt Dolly.  She actually looked over her shoulder.  Something told me to humor the old woman, so I stomped over to the pile of make-believe clothing and put on the centuries-old garments.  At the corset I balked.

“I will help you.”  She was right behind me.  I turned to protest again.  ”It ties this way.”

I heard a noise from below at that moment.  ”Hurry now….,”  she said in a warbling voice.  ”Think of it as one of your ‘explorations’ that you will get paid for.”

“Wha…” I said into the dress that appeared on top of my head.

“Put your arms in!”

“Yes ma’am!  Sheesh!  Explbl… oring?”  I wriggled into the dress.  ”What am I exploring?”

She stopped and looked at the dress for a second before turning me, rather forcefully for such a little woman, and tying the laces at the back.  ”Yes, this will do just fine.  She will like this very much.”  She turned me back around and set the hat on my head.  ”Ghaelen, she has to hire you.”

“Well, in this getup I can’t imagine why, unless she is like Ruby.  Then she’d have hired me in the underwear.”  I started to laugh, thinking of my friend enjoying the sight of me dressed up like  paper doll.

“She HAS to hire you!” Dolly said more urgently, as much to herself as to me.  I stopped laughing to look at her.

“YOU.”  She said.

The doorbell rang.  ”Coooming!” She literally crooned.  ”She is so happy to meet you, Professor!”

I followed, intrigued now.  ”Professor?  Who? Hire ME?  Why?”