Caster by Elsie Chapman

Author:Elsie Chapman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

I escape a minute later with the excuse of having to help out at the teahouse. I pull my mask back on and take off at a run once I’m out of sight of the diner, trying not to think about the healing meds I can’t get to, how I feel like my web has me more trapped now than anything else.

The rain has stopped by the time I get to Textile. Some sectors in the city are noted for their smells, but some leave their mark on the eyes, and Textile is one of these. Windows of shops grow colorful and lustrous with their bolts of fabric on display, posed mannequins dressed in suits and gowns. My mother has to come here whenever the shop needs new napkins or place mats. But before, she would send Shire, who would then take me, and the two of us would study the windows for hours.

Today, though, I see none of this. The Mothery is in the middle of the sector, and as I weave my way through the streets to get there, all that’s on my mind is convincing Piper to be my backer. It helps that the sun is already low, so that it flashes off the windows and hurts my eyes if I’m not careful. Midnight, getting closer.

Piper is beginning to feel essential. One, I need a steady flow of marks for ring starters, to get to fight. Two, I need the answers to the secrets that haunt me, and Piper could be a key. Did she back a fighter last year? Did she see Finch kill Shire? Could she know if he cheated? And three—well, it’d be nice to have one person on my side. Everyone else in the tournament I’ve spoken to is off-limits. Kylin’s just a kid and a part of me is drawn to protecting her, but she’s also a competitor. Navy is the champion’s backer. Embry is Embry.

The Mothery’s window display is beautiful—wide spools of silk in different shades of blue are stacked in the back to imitate a sky of old, while spools of silk in shades of brown and green line the floor to create a healthy earth. Tinier spools of gold and silver are inserted randomly in between all the blue of the sky, for stars.

I head inside and a bell over the door dings. The shop is basically the window display, only bigger. More bolts of silk along the walls, cabinets here and there with shelves stuffed with panels of color. The place smells how it looks, like roses and perfume and dust.

Piper is helping two customers choose between patterns, and I wait for them to leave, doing my best to not run my hands over every single inch of silk I see.

Then it’s just Piper and me. She shuts the door, casts leftover magic to flip over the sign on the window to say CLOSED. She makes no move to lock the door, and I wonder why she’s assuming no one’s going to try to come in anyway.

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