The kitchen was as small as it always had been. However, it seemed vast without Fynn and Brighde cluttering up the place. As she stepped within, the smell of freshly baked bread struck her. The smell of home. Ma stood at the bench, as she usually would be. She turned at the sound of Aloisia’s footsteps and gave a small smile.
“I knew you would return, Lis. In your own time.”
Aloisia burst into tears, collapsing to her knees, unable to bear the weight of what had happened any longer.
Ma hurried across to her, picking her up off the kitchen floor. “Up we get,” she murmured, as she would when Aloisia was a child. She helped her to a chair and smoothed back her hair. “Tell me everything, my love.”
And Aloisia did. She told her of the Forgotten Gods and the shaman, of the fight with Tristan and the harsh words of her sisters, of meetings with the judiciaries and pages of notes in a different language. And Ma listened intently as she let all of it go, casting it all from her heart and laying it all bare.
“I see,” Ma said when she was done.
Aloisia’s tears had stopped and the weight which had wrapped around her chest like a vice lifted, if only a little.
“It is not your responsibility, child.” Ma pattered her hand. “All of this is out of your hands. You can only do what you can, nothing more. It is the magistrate who will have the final say.”
“We were so close. There is a map and only Inari can read it.”
“Then read it he must, if the Divines are good.”
“He cannot read it from his cell. Or his grave.”
Ma gripped her fingers in hers, a little too tight. “I have faith, Aloisia. Fynn is innocent, of that I am certain. And it will be proven. There is time yet. And this is not your responsibility. No one will blame you if he is not saved.”
Aloisia sucked in a sharp breath.
“This not your weight to bear.”
“I would never forgive myself if I did nothing.”
Ma brushed Aloisia’s hair back from her face. “None of it is your fault. Whatever may pass, none of it is your fault.”
Aloisia remained there with Ma, allowing her tears to fall, allowing her fears to rip her open, for she could not keep them at bay any longer. And when the sun had dipped further down in the sky, casting a red glow through the windows, Aloisia was finally ready to stand again. And though, when she stepped out into the early evening, she knew nothing outside had changed, she felt lighter heading back into it.
Ma clung to her hand, not quite ready to release her. “Don’t leave it so long next time, hm?”
Aloisia nodded. “I’ll try.”
She planted a kiss on her head and waited in the doorway until Aloisia was out of sight.
Aloisia made her way back to Temple Green. She stared at the stone spires for a long moment, weighing up her options. The thought of seeing Tristan, after what he had done, churned her stomach. After being back at the smithy, she longed to see her brother, to know he was doing well – or, at least, as well as possible. Perhaps they may even allow her to speak with Inari. With everything she had lost, there was little left for her to lose. The worst they could do was refuse.
Before she could think better of it, Aloisia marched to the heavy doors of the Temple and shoved them open with a shoulder. She strode through the nave, the soft soles of her boots slapping across the stone floor, drawing the attention of the few priests deep in prayer. None tried to stop her as she made her way to the high priest’s office. She rapped her knuckles on the door and awaited an answer.
“Come in,” High Priest Silas called.
Tentatively, she opened the door, peering around it to meet his gaze.
“Please, take a seat, Huntress.” He gestured to the chair opposite him.
Aloisia perched in it, clutching her fists in her lap. “I wanted to apologise,” she said, after a moment, “for earlier. My behaviour…”
“It wasn’t your best look, no. But it was also understandable.”
“I would never have hurt Tristan. Not really.”
“I am aware.” He folded his hands before him. “Tristan was only doing what he believed to be right.”
“He has implicated Inari. The shaman is our only source of information. And he’s the only one who can translate these notes, who can make sense of the map. We didn’t even know it was a map until he told us.”
