27 Senessay

I was so caught up in trying to learn the concealment pouvra I didn’t take time to record the rest of yesterday before I went to sleep. I’m so tired this morning I’m having trouble concentrating on anything. I took my discoveries to Cederic after lunch yesterday, and he insisted (politely, he’s learning) that I read out certain passages. Then he told me things to look for, key words and phrases, and I read those too. By the time we were both ready for dinner, I’d read myself hoarse and Cederic was pacing back and forth across the circle, fingers of one hand pressed against his forehead. Finally, he said, “I think we should leave this for now. There is a book that might reveal something of what this author claims, but I would prefer to come at this fresh, in the morning.”

“But you’re going to read that book tonight,” I said.

He raised his eyebrow at me. “And if I do?”

“Do you believe in rest at all?” I said.

“I find that amusing, coming from the woman who intends to stay up all night learning the concealment pouvra,” he said.

I sputtered at him indignantly, but in the end I had to laugh. “It’s a disease,” I said, and he nodded, smiling.

“Well, I think we can both agree to have enough self-control to be able to function in the morning,” I said. Except I don’t think I did. I have no way of keeping track of time, here under the mountain, and I didn’t fall asleep until I was so exhausted my eyeballs ached, which had to be only a few hours before someone banged on my door and shouted something about breakfast. They’ve taken to doing that, now that I’m so engaged in research, and I appreciate it most of the time. Just not when I’ve had only four hours of sleep and my head is pounding. I didn’t go to breakfast immediately, but wrote all this in the hope that my headache would go away. I think it only became worse. Maybe food will help.