About the ledger

What this is

A story, told a page a day for a year, on the real calendar. Each page is a day in the hollow, and it appears on the morning of that day, and not before, whatever anyone says to the ledger about it.

The hollow is a back green behind a tall building of flats, in a city the ledger does not name. From the Above it is a hedge, and not a good one. From beneath it is a country, with a gate, and a sign on the gate that says NOBODY COMES IN, and a sentry who has never once let anyone in, and a keeper who came through the gate anyway on the sort of night when the rain is not so much falling as arriving in bulk.

Grizel keeps the ledger. She has kept it for fourteen winters. Nobody reads it. Yet.

How to read it

Begin at the gate, which is the first page, and go forward. A page takes about as long as a cup of something. The Sunday pages are chapters and take about as long as the cup and a second cup.

If you miss a day, it keeps. The ledger will tell you how many you missed, without judgement, since it counts and does not judge, and the archive has them all in order. If you would rather not miss any, there is a box at the foot of every page, and the ledger will send each morning's page to wherever you put your name.

Begin at the gate

The two peoples

A grumlin is a gnome, and a gnome, for anyone who has only seen the ones in gardens, is a person about the height of a good boot, built low and wide as if by someone who expected weather. Grumlins wear hats. Grumlins hold that a thing belongs to whoever wrote it down. You will notice which people keeps the records.

A fliskie is a fairy, or would be if you said so to one, which is not advised. Fliskies have wings, and ranks, and a Court a day's flight away that says nothing, loudly. Fliskies hold that a thing belongs to whoever is holding it. Nothing a fliskie takes is stolen. It has been relocated.

The two peoples have shared the hollow for longer than the ledger has been kept, and disagree about most things, and have never once disagreed about the hollow, which the ledger has noticed and declined to explain.

The newcomer, and the eight

The Occupant

The newcomer. A young woman of no obvious people, not much taller than Grizel and nothing like as wide, no hat and no wings, in a coat that belonged to someone larger and was argued down. She says little, and it is usually the thing nobody else will say. The ledger has not yet written her name, and will not be hurried.

Grizel

Keeps the ledger, and this site, and her opinions, which are in the footnotes. Tall for a grumlin, stooped, spectacles on a string, the ledger under one arm the way other people hold a grievance. Her highest form of comment is no comment.

Mungo

Guards the gate. A wall with a face. Red felt hat folded the wrong way, boots two sizes too big and grown into, lantern held out at arm's length in case it goes off. Says "Nobody comes in." Has never once let anyone in. Has said almost nothing else.

Nettie

Farms the mushrooms and counts the beans, and arrives at three. Round and low and wide, the longest beard in the hollow, braided with acorns, which clicks when she moves and goes silent when she is angry. Blames Gnomesby. Not personally.

Wick

The tinker. The only thin grumlin, jam-jar-lid goggles over his hat, tools kept in his beard. Built the stool, which is ready, and the table, which is nearly ready, and a device to measure a Mungo, which is nearly ready. Everything is nearly ready.

Tansy

The small one. The size of a thumb joint and mostly pockets, wings like a moth that has been through a letterbox. Relocates things, and leaves a note saying so, in a hand the size of a seed. Has a sack. Nobody looks.

Lady Pettigrew

Envoy of the Court of the Fliskies, rank Adequate, which is second from the bottom and which she pronounces as if it were the top. A collar that decided to bring a person along. Has been at the gate since the second day, ten feet from Mungo. Not staying.

Mothy

A big soft fliskie the size of three, dust-coloured, wings like a blanket over a chair. Loves lamps. Loves Mungo's lantern in particular, and sits by it, and never does anything on purpose, and it always matters. Says "Hello."

Sorrel

The scout. A fliskie built entirely out of angles, a single thorn on a cord, wings going brown at the edges. Reports to Grizel, as the proper authority. Brings Wick broken things and thanks him at length, and he says nothing, and both think it went badly.

Also recorded

A beetle, which carries the letters, and wears a hat, and was not tipped. A fox, which is called Mine, and sits on the old wall with a white shoe beside it, and is large and amused and has not yet said by what. The Provost of Gnomesby, who has a clipboard. The Above, which has many boots and a theology, and has never been seen whole.