"They want to avoid looking like fools. They want it so badly, they're willing to lie, and they're afraid to accuse everyone around them of lying."
"I should think that would be more comforting than thinking you're the only unworthy person in the entire city."
"Honesty is rarely comforting."
"I'll tell you what isn't comforting—the thought of half the people of this city, clamoring to wear clothes made of invisible cloth." Merrigan shuddered. "Forget about the crimes against fashion. The thought of all those ugly, misshapen, fat bodies wearing nothing but their underpinnings. Or the folk who dislike underpinnings!" She thought she might be ill.
An hour later, she learned she should have focused her concern and fear in an entirely different direction.
Gilda came to her in tears. Gilbrick had insisted on buying three bolts of cloth from the weavers, to have clothes made for himself, for Gilda, and as a present for King Auberg. Including fresh underpinnings. When Aubrey protested, insisting that there was no cloth, Master Gilbrick dismissed him from his service. None of the managers and senior apprentices stood up for Aubrey.
I wash my hands of her, Merrigan commented silently to Bib. The silly child is upset about the wrong thing entirely. Her father is going to make her, and himself, and the king run around naked!
You would be upset if you were in love with Aubrey, the book responded, sounding slightly amused.
Love makes even bigger idiots out of people who are already idiots. Thank goodness I was only partially in love with Leffisand, and it stopped before I went too far to be saved.
Really? Bib responded. Do you truly believe that?
Merrigan couldn't respond. Gilda had stopped weeping and said something that she had to ask her to repeat.
"Papa wants you to design and sew the clothes," Gilda said, her face brightening. Obviously, her love for Aubrey wasn't very deep, if passing on such news eased her spirits.
"No." Merrigan was amazed at how good it felt to say that.
"What do you mean, no?"
"I won't soil my hands—" She let out a gasp of exasperation at the contradiction of what she was saying. After all, how could she soil her hands on cloth that didn't exist?
"Are you saying you won't make the clothes for my father and for me—and for our king? After all I've told you about him, how he's suffered so much since losing his son? After all my father has done for you?"
"I won't make the clothes because I can't make the clothes because there is no magical cloth."
For three eternal seconds, something like relief softened the worried lines around Gilda's mouth and eyes. She opened her mouth to speak. Then she hiccupped, pressed her wet handkerchief to her mouth and muffled a wail. A moment later, she fled the room.
"This is a madhouse."
"Indeed, Mi'Lady. I believe it would be wise to leave before we are asked to leave. Either from inimical magic at work or people's unwillingness to be thought of as unworthy. Insisting the cloth does not exist could make people angry. Enough to attack," the book hurried to add.
Merrigan had very little to pack, so she was ready to go in less than a quarter of an hour. Possessing a magic box that could hold anything she put inside it made packing easy. She put everything she possessed in two bags on long straps—one satchel for Bib, and the other for the box. There were no household servants visible as she made her way down the stairs and across the grand entrance hallway, to the front door. They were likely huddled together, fearing for their positions since they couldn't see the cloth.
"Mistress Mara." Aubrey appeared from the shadows between the warehouses as Merrigan pulled the door closed behind her. "Please tell me—you saw no cloth also?"
"Of course not. There was nothing to see."
"Thank you." His face lit up, so for a few seconds he was quite the handsomest young man she had ever seen. Merrigan's heart skipped a few beats. "I beg you, help me save Gilda."
"Save her?" Merrigan shook her head. "Just how do you propose to do that? And save her from what, exactly?"
"We have to keep Master Gilbrick from humiliating himself, utterly destroying himself over this cloth. Once his reputation is destroyed, it won't matter that he's been a respected, successful merchant for thirty years—just a few hours of foolishness will destroy him. If he falls, so will Gilda."
"Hmm." She had very few options to consider, and she wasn't ashamed to admit she liked Gilda enough to want to protect the girl from her silliness. "If you'll find me a place to stay, since I'm no longer a welcome guest here, I'll see what I can do."
What we can do, you mean, Bib commented.
Of course. We're partners in protecting the fools of the world from themselves.
AUBREY BROUGHT MERRIGAN to a warehouse on the far edge of the old merchants' district. As they walked, he filled in the information that Gilda had been too upset to tell her. Gilbrick had announced that he wanted Mistress Mara to design the clothes. The weavers had scrambled to convince him that only they were able to cut and sew the "cloth of discernment," as it was being called. Only they could keep the cloth from losing its magic during the process. That had convinced Aubrey he wasn't being foolish or blind, but that this was an elaborate scheme. Gilbrick had indeed been persuaded by the weavers and agreed that they would be entrusted with the making of the magical clothes, but he still wanted Merrigan to design them and oversee the work.
"I should have agreed to do it," Merrigan said, as they turned down the street with the warehouse at the far end. "At least I would be in a position to keep an eye on those two cheats."
"Oh, no, Mistress. That would just put you in danger. Eventually, they would realize you were trying to gather evidence
