The travel clerk made me open the case again.
"Before I enter it, my lord. Anything added afterward has to be declared."
I unbuckled the strap with my left hand. The case had been easier to close upstairs, where I could kneel beside it, than on this narrow counter. He held the lid while I freed a stocking caught under the edge.
Six days had passed since I obtained the catalogue citation. I had spent them waiting for papers, having clothes returned to the wrong cupboard and keeping practice short enough that I could still eat afterward. Now there were four days until the academy's Founding Day and two until I left the estate. The clerk had three forms with the same journey on them and wanted all three to agree before the office closed.
He checked the clothes against his list: two spare shirts, a pair of trousers, two pairs of stockings. One of the formal glove pairs lay folded in a shirt. The other was laid out with the coat and boots I would wear on departure morning.
"No equipment case?"
"No."
He drew a line through the empty space. "Personal weapon?"
"None."
The word looked exposed on the form. I watched him move to the next box without asking me to justify it.
I put the small hand satchel beside the case. The notebook went in first, with the old transfer slip still inside its front cover. I had placed the formal citation between the plain stiff sheets the records clerk had given me. He lifted that packet enough to see there was no second book underneath it, then laid it back without reading the text.
The pen, stopped ink bottle and writing paper occupied an inner pocket. I showed him the soft work-glove pair and the linen: one roll still whole, the other already reduced by the strips I had been using. He entered the opened roll as part-used. The little salve tin had to come out of its wrapping so he could read the mark underneath.
"Plain chafing salve," I said.
"I have it." He marked the line. "Anything from the infirmary?"
"No."
He closed the tin and returned it to me. I wrapped it again, taking more time than necessary to tuck in the corner of the cloth. My finger had begun to ache from handling the straps.
The food would be loaded on the morning itself: a packet of bread and cheese, a filled water flask. He entered them now and showed me where they would fit in the satchel. When I put the notebook back, its edge pressed against the ink bottle. I moved the bottle into its own pocket and tried lifting the bag. It pulled on the sore finger at once. I put it down and used my left hand.
"You'll carry that through the gate yourself," the clerk said. "The case goes with you. The carriage does not."
I looked at the route sheet. "The driver stops in the capital?"
"Yes. One passenger onward."
He made me check the name. Cedric Valdrake appeared on the gate permit, on the booked transfer and on the shuttle reservation. I followed it with the tip of the pen without touching the paper.
Departure from the estate was at dawn, two mornings from now. A day on the road brought us to the capital the following morning. The clerk tapped the reporting time: seven.
"And this is seven in the evening?" I asked, moving down the page.
"End of clearance."
"Twelve hours?"
"If you report on time." He pulled the gate permit level with the booking. "Keep these together. Missing papers won't shorten it."
The crossing itself took minutes. After it came the Eastern Spires receiving station and a wait for the shuttle. The last connection that would get me to the academy for Founding Day left at two in the morning and took another four hours. I had spent more time planning what to do after arrival than considering how much of the journey I would have to spend awake.
"Is there an earlier shuttle?"
"Earlier than your clearance?" He checked the sheet even so. "Not on this booking."
I read the dates again. They worked. I signed beneath them.
The estate departure warrant had one blank space left, for release at the gate on departure morning. He folded it with the transit permit, reservations and baggage declaration into a document wallet. The wallet fitted inside my coat. I tried the pocket before taking the coat off again.
Only then did he accept the road-allowance slip I had brought from the supply office.
The money came out of a locked drawer in a small purse. He counted it onto a cloth, entered the sum on a receipt and asked me to count it back. I had to stop once and separate two coins that had stuck together. This time, when I signed for money, there was actual weight to put in my pocket.
"The reserved transport is charged to the house," he said. "This is for food and necessary lodging on the road. Keep the receipts. Anything left is accounted for on arrival."
I asked whether the allowance could be increased if the gate delayed me. He turned the expense form so I could see the blank space for an explanation.
"Don't spend against an increase you haven't got."
I put the purse inside the coat opposite the papers. It was enough to make both sides hang differently. The clerk gave me my copy of the receipt, and I fitted that into the wallet too.
Before leaving, I lifted the satchel again with my left hand. He watched me hold it for a moment, then let go of the case lid so I could buckle it.
---
In my room the two pieces of luggage looked inadequate beside the wardrobe. I resisted reopening the case and put the satchel on the desk instead. The packing list lay where I could check it without moving anything.
I called up the Ledger to look at the thirty points I had earned in the gallery. An offer appeared beside the balance.
ELIXIR — ONE DOSE
PRICE: 50 VP
AVAILABLE BALANCE: 30 VP
For a moment I looked only at the name. I could imagine drinking something and reaching for a cup afterward without considering the handle.
The effect field described treatment of ordinary tissue injury. I read on. Existing Void scars and structural core damage were excluded.
I laid my right hand flat beside the packing list. The raised line crossed the pad of the index finger just as it had that morning.
"This wouldn't remove that?"
ESTABLISHED VOID SCARRING: NOT REVERSIBLE BY THIS ITEM.
"Or repair the core."
NO.
I had thirty points. It cost fifty. Even the thing I couldn't afford wasn't the thing I had pictured.
There was no purchase to make. I dismissed the offer and put my road purse away. The two balances did not help each other.
I had left a narrow strip of linen on the desk while packing. I wound it around the finger, looser on the second turn, and worked the soft glove over it. The other glove went back into the satchel; I added the right one beside it after checking the fit. On departure morning I would need them where I could reach them.
The food space was still empty. I left the satchel unfastened for it, set the document wallet and purse inside my coat, and hung the coat beside the door. Then I sat down with the packing list on my knees. For once there was nothing left on it that I could finish tonight.