Severn Herrley sent Veronika on her way with the corn husk doll carefully packed up, as if it were going to be shipped.  She’d also sent her with a small tray of vegetables and hummus. 

“Everyone seems to want to feed me,” she’d muttered, even though it had only been the two so far, not counting Sylvester, whose job it presumably was to want to feed her. 

“It’s a good sign.  It means we like you.”  Severn had patted her on the back heavily enough to send her a few steps forward and had given her tips on her next destination. 

Of course, as she trundled her little cart away from Ancient Acquisitions, Veronika was wondering what happened when an archivist didn’t like her. 

She amused herself thinking of possibilities — from a very firm snubbing, to sending her in the wrong direction for the next department, to taking her things from her instead of giving her food, to making her part of a display. 

Maybe, she mused darkly, that was what happened to those who didn’t make it through their first day; maybe there was a department somewhere with row upon row of “failed Bellamy archivists” behind glass, modeling wigs like Alice. Continue reading →