“She also mentioned that you’ve failed to interpret it thus far.” She strikes a match and lights up, lifting an eyebrow.
“That’s correct, Mother Prioress,” I say, deciding to wait and see what she’ll say about the Red Mage before disclosing my feathered friends didn’t show up today.
“How long have you been at the temple now?” She waves out the flame.
“This is my fourth winter.”
“Four years. My, how time flies. And you’restillstruggling to interpret your omens.” She exhales a plume of pungent smoke and clicks her tongue,tskinglike I’m an unruly child. Like my ineptitude is deliberate. “It’s time to consider the possibility that you might never come into your Second Sight, Elodie. The courtsand high houses might be beyond your reach, but youarea gifted forager. I’m sure I could think of some way you could be of use.”
“What did you have in mind?” But I know what she’s getting at. I already hate this entire conversation.
“You know, I never receivedmySecond Sight either. I found a way to put my other skills to advantage. If you put your mind to it, I’m almost certain youcould do the same.” She issues a forlorn sigh. “I’ve hinted at it before, but for your benefit, I’ll say plainly: I could take you under my tutelage. Show you how to get the most out of the quaint,rusticknowledge you’ve managed to amass thus far.”
This is a game we sometimes play, where she acts like a condescending twat and I pretend not to notice.
“Your reverence—”
“There’s no need to thank me.” Her grin is as disingenuous as the rest of her. “It’s the least I can do.”
Over my dead and mangled body, Mother Bitch.
The fire pops. She takes another drag. The smoke is cloying. It’s resurrecting my headache. Briefly, I fantasize about snatching the cigarette and putting it out in her eye.
“Mother Prioress, while I am deeply flattered, I'm not prepared to give up so soon. Maida believes the Red Mage might be able to help. At the very least, she thinks it’s worth trying. Frankly, so do I.”
The corners of Deirdre’s mouth pull into a frown. She puffs thoughtfully away. Her gaze travels over my clothing—a sweater layered over a button-down and a pair of wool jersey trousers. My sleeves are rolled to the elbow.
“So she mentioned,” she says at last, her top lip curling back from her teeth. “You’re looking quite… casual today. Perhaps a bitscruffy.”
I shift, uncomfortably aware of the bite mark throbbing beneath where my shirt is buttoned to my neck.
“Scruffy” and “casual” are Deirdre’s way of saying my clothes are too masculine without actually saying it. She enjoys antagonizing me about my wardrobe choices from time to time, although she doesn’t bother to establish a dress code when the temple isn’t open.
I cock my head. Produce my smoothest smile. “Had I advance notice of our meeting, I would’ve put on a dress for you.”
She waves the hand holding her cigarette dismissively. Pungent smoke coils between us. “As far as traveling to Nehel, I’m afraid that would be quite the undertaking.”
“It’s a day by train. We’d be back well in advance of Fire Festival.”
She chuckles, fussing with her pristine white robes. “And I suppose you’ll try to convince me the issue is urgent enough to warrant crossing the barrier dome? Not to mention the ‘essential learning opportunity’ for your charges, according to Maida. In the event that I temporarily lose my mind and consent to this little escapade, that is.”
I snort. “With all due respect—” A door slams, cutting me off.
We both crane our necks.
A betrothed girl with sleek, dark hair steps into the alcove from the adjoining room, a stack of boxes filling her hands. Her bare head is bowed, her long hair spilling down her back.
Deirdre ashes her cigarette. Grumbles something about “thankless people.”
Meanwhile, I can’t lift my eyes from the girl. There’s something familiar about her.Toofamiliar.
It isn’t until she sets her boxes on the prep table that her face comes into view.
Thick, black thread sews her lips together gruesomely. A beauty mark stands out on her cheekbone, contrasting sharply with her creamy complexion. But it’s her lucid brown eyes that have me trying not to choke.
Lydia’s the Screamer?MyLydia?With everyone wearing masks, I didn’t recognize her at last night’s feast. Maida distinctly told me the Screamer girl had her mouth sewn closed, though. Once she confirmed with Tiss who, exactly, she’d been talking to.
I can’t stop staring.But she’s a natural human. Isn’t she?
