13

“Oh shit. Not now.” Finished with his pie, Jadon stands and frowns at something happening behind me.

I turn to see an older man wearing a long black tunic and a soft black hat. His steps are like ghosts, because I didn’t hear his approach. I pull myself up and stand beside Jadon.

“Father Knete,” Jadon says, his hands now folded.

The man’s hazel eyes, deep-set and knowing, bore into mine. His smile is soft and compassionate. “You must be our newest hero.” His voice is smooth as soap.

I squint my eyes. “I wouldn’t say ‘hero.’” Even though I’d said something similar just last night. I’ve seen enough darkness now to not revel in the violence.

The minister places his hand over his heart. “Well, you’ve earned a number of admirers. I had to come meet this ‘Lady Kai’ myself. I was expecting you yesterday. Olivia mentioned that you’d be polishing the silver and the pews because you needed to earn geld.”

Shit. Forgot about that.

Jadon clears his throat and says, “Kai.” To the minister: “It’s been a long day. Now isn’t a good time.” He moves toward the threshold of the cottage.

“Give me a minute,” I say.

Jadon holds my gaze. There’s a question in his look.

“I’m fine,” I assure him, then turn back to Knete.

Eventually, the repaired door to the cottage closes.

“So much has happened,” I say to Knete. “The emperor’s invasion, for one. And I figured, since I helped with everything last night, my debt would be forgiven.”

“I don’t know about that ,” the minister says. “But we’re having Assent this evening, which has now turned into a special service for the dead. I saw Olivia in town this afternoon, and she promised me that you’d show up after you failed to show yesterday.”

My stomach twists. I really don’t want to go, and I really don’t think I should have to go, especially since this man is partially responsible for Jamart’s daughter being jailed. But I also don’t want to get Olivia in trouble. She did arrange this job. “I can help now.”

His eyes light up. “Wonderful. Let’s walk over to the church together, then.”

The air buzzes with the sounds of work and renovation. The villagers are leading the orphaned horses to their new homes. Poor horses, who will no longer have good oats to eat. Some men roll the dead soldiers onto wheelbarrows, two at a time. The ground is soft beneath my feet. Not from rain but from blood.

“How are you finding Maford?” Father Knete asks. “Aside from the violence last night?” He pauses, then adds, “Though I’m sure where you’re from you’re probably used to it.”

What? I jam my lips together as my mind searches for the most diplomatic answer. “Maford is an interesting place.”

“What province are you from?” he asks.

“Oh,” I say. “Here and there. I’m just trying to figure out where to go next.”

True.

“You have no family?”

My chest tightens. “I do have family.”

“And did they not want to join you in Maford?” he asks. “Or have you abandoned your Dashmala ways? Brutality and raiding and heresy? Are you now ready to be transformed?”

“I didn’t actually choose to be here. Circumstances led me here.” I rub the space above my eyebrow. “Circumstances that resulted in my need to earn twelve geld. As for transformation, I’m fine just the way I am. Respectfully speaking.”

Father Knete, his hands clasped behind his back, says, “Hmm.”

“Last night,” I say, “I fought for a town that’s been so unkind to me, with the exception of a few people. And yet some are still scared of me or angry with me—”

“You murdered an important leader of this town,” he says sternly. “Their reaction isn’t arbitrary. The only reason you’re not locked in that jail is because you have Ealdrehrt on your side. But I know and Supreme knows what you did. How many soldiers you slaughtered.”

I snort. “Are you referring to the soldiers who killed more villagers than I did?”

He says, “Mmm. May I ask? Your pendant. It’s interesting. What does it signify?”

No idea, but he can’t know that. “The typical things moths symbolize.”

“Transformation,” he says. “Death. We don’t subscribe to such symbolism, nor do we wear charms and totems like yours in our village.”

“Just the one totem,” I say, nodding. “The colures. They’re everywhere. On shops, on carts, hanging around people’s necks. I’ve been told that the paddles and the circles symbolize your belief system.”

Too bad they didn’t stop the emperor’s men from killing the villagers. But that doesn’t matter to Knete. He’s already loyal to the emperor. He went untouched in the battle.

He chuckles. “I understand your meaning. I’ll admit that the colure does symbolize our relationship with Supreme.”

We stop before steps leading up to a tall stone building with colored glass windows and a large colure nailed over the entry. The open doors offer quiet, cool respite and sweet-smelling air.

“Shall I ask Supreme for forgiveness on your behalf?” the minister asks. “If you are to stay in this town, if you are to walk into this holy place, this consecrated ground, you must be free from iniquity.”

I start to say, “Pardon?” but he’s already extended a hand over my head.

Eyes closed, he says, “Divine, guide this lost soul. May she put down her anger to follow in Your way. Let her move from self and on to You. Open her mind. Open her heart. Keep her from her murderous inclinations to do Your will and Your work. Forgive her for her transgressions against Your servants and let her join You in the great reformation of this realm and its people. In Your name and in the name of our emperor…” He opens his eyes and smiles.

I scowl and push down the urge to knock his hand away from my head. He knows nothing, and his hand is good only for blocking me from the setting daystar’s glare. Heat rises off my prickling scalp, and my fingertips burn. I take a breath and then another to stop the buzzing in my ears. His prayer is useless. No clarity unfurls before me. Just the same hollow echo inside my skull. My heart clenches more than it did before his prayer.

Bile creeps up my throat. Something about this man, about his prayer, his talk of transgression. My heart and my gut are not at peace with any of this. The voice in my head whispers, You know the truth. You know all that he’s saying is not truth. I don’t need to know my history to know this voice is right.

“Patience, child,” the minister says, as though he can read my mind. “Prayer is not an instant salve, but you wouldn’t know that, would you? The blessings you seek must be earned, starting with acknowledging that it was not you but Supreme who granted your so-called victory over the emperor’s men.”

“So-called?” A spark of defiance ignites within me. “No disrespect, Father Knete, but it was Jadon Ealdrehrt and I who bled those soldiers, who saved this town. That is called ‘victory.’” We hold each other’s gaze—I will not retreat from this belief.

His eyes burn, and his breathing is hot. He’s holding back his ire. “You are troubled, child. Because you are a visitor here and a newcomer to this province, I will hold my tongue. There are still some parts of Vallendor that have not heard the truth and are filled with primitives who believe in false gods. You come from one of these places.”

I lift an eyebrow. “And you know this… how ?”

He levels his shoulders. “You were brought to us for a reason. I will do my best to show you truth. I haven’t had to teach a beginner like you in a very long time.” He smiles. “I look forward to the challenge. You will soon discover how wrong you and your people have been. And Supreme will welcome you, all of you, with open arms.”

I say nothing.

“I have something for you.” The man searches the pockets of his robe. “You can’t see yourself right now, but if you could, you’d see the pain and anguish you are experiencing— Ah. Here it is.” He pulls out a small, rolled piece of paper, and though he smiles, his eyes remain flat. “This is what your heart is telling me. When you are ready to speak, Supreme will hear.” He holds out the scroll.

I hesitate but take it anyway.

“I no longer need your assistance in the sanctuary,” he says. “You are confused, child, and if it is Supreme’s will, your aid will come.” He thinks, “And your aid will never come , child of the Vile,” before heading up the steps, leaving me there, alone, in the coming dark.

Olivia and Jadon are in deep conversation when I enter the cottage. They fall silent. Olivia’s cheeks color, and she pops up from her seat, plucking an unfinished dress hanging beside the lavender bundles.

I toss her a smile and drop into the chair she just abandoned. “I haven’t seen you all day. You will not believe the conversation I had with your…” I squint at her. “Something wrong?”

Jadon tries to smile. “What makes you think something’s wrong? We’re just sitting.”

Olivia averts her eyes and paws through her sewing basket.

I shrug and say, “Okay. I brought back a souvenir.” I hold up the prayer scroll. “Did you tell Olivia I accompanied the minister on a walk to the church?”

“What did you two talk about?” Jadon sounds hesitant.

“Many things,” I say, “including his belief that I’m a lost child of the Dashmala and that Supreme was the one who defeated Wake’s men, not us. Oh, and that I’m a child of the Vile.”

“The Vile?” Olivia snaps, glaring. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m sorry,” Jadon says, expression darkening.

“And he gave me this.” I toss up the prayer scroll and catch it. “For when I’m ready to accept the truth.”

Olivia sucks her teeth. “I have, like, fifteen of those prayer scrolls.”

“If you collect twenty,” Jadon says, “you win a ticket to heaven.”

I groan and pull off my boots. “I’m exhausted.”

Jadon stands and says, “Same. But my day’s not over. As much as I want to stay and complain about Father Knete, I can’t.”

I waggle my eyebrows and twirl the prayer scroll with my fingers. “A pre-Assent date?”

“Meeting at the mayor’s house down the road,” he says. “Town leaders will be making big decisions about what to do if Wake’s men return… When Wake’s men return.”

“Wait!” I reach into my pouch and grab the geld I earned yesterday. “It’s not twelve, but again: I fought for this town last night. That has to count for something.” I hand Jadon my fine. “Please consult with the leaders about if I’m now free to reclaim my belongings and leave.”

Jadon pockets the coins and nods, a little stiffly. “I will. Just know that you don’t have to leave, like, immediately.” Then he and Olivia exchange looks. “I won’t be long.” He leaves the cottage without a goodbye.

“Did something happen?” I ask, anxious. “Did Zinnia pass?”

“What?” Olivia snaps, irritated. “No. She’s still alive.”

Her thoughts, though, speed through her mind. “Why can’t this be simple? Why can’t I just exist? When will this be over?”

When will what be over? My living here? I sit up in the chair. “If Jadon comes back with good news, that I can leave, I’ll take my things and head out first thing in the morning. Then you can go back to your lives before you found me passed out in the forest.”

She stares at me with exhausted eyes, then gazes into her sewing basket. “You’re the least of our worries.”

Before I can ask her what that could possibly mean, someone raps on the pantry door.

Olivia shouts, “Come in, Phily!”

The girl I recognize as Copperhair rushes into the sitting room. Her eyes roll wild in her head with fear like a stallion’s. Her sage-colored dress gleams in the gloom.

“Sweetie!” Copperhair runs into her friend’s arms for a hug.

“Philia! You’re back!” Olivia plants kisses all around her face and lips, turns her this way and that to search for injuries. “I’m so glad you and your uncle went to Pethorp yesterday.”

“We heard about what happened,” the young woman says. “I wanted to come back home last night, but Uncle Darrick said it was too dangerous. I didn’t sleep at all because I was so worried about—” She finally sees me seated in the armchair. She gasps, startled. “What are you doing here?” Her frightened eyes find Olivia’s.

“Minding my business while looking bloody fabulous,” I say, smiling. “Did you hear that I also looked bloody fabulous during yesterday’s invasion?”

Philia scowls, then turns back to Olivia.

But Olivia’s arms are crossed. “She’s right, Philia. She and Jadon saved us. Your house is still standing because of her. You should be grateful.”

Philia stares at her friend as though she’s waiting for the punchline to this joke. But Olivia’s mouth is set firm. She’s not joking. Philia turns to me and clears her throat. “Thank you for fighting.” Her cheeks turn bright red.

“You’re welcome, Philia.” I give her a wide smile. “I’m Kai—”

“ You’re Kai?” Phily’s eyes widen in surprise.

“What is it?” Olivia asks.

“It’s just—” The redhead looks flustered as her eyes bounce between Olivia and me. “Just now, on the road outside of Pethorp, we saw Helman. He said that there’s a woman and two men on the road, and that they looked peculiar, like no one he’s ever seen. He says they’re wearing fancy clothes and that there are bright-red cardinals flitting around their heads.”

Cardinals? Yesterday afternoon, I saw two red birds in the woods.

“He said a bandit tried to rob these travelers,” Philia continues, “but one of the strange men lifted the bandit right off his feet, held him high into the sky, and then slung him into a tree, and every bone in the bandit’s body broke into a million little pieces!”

Olivia frowns, her eyes big. “What?”

Philia nods. “Helman says that they’re on their way to Maford right now . They’re coming here.” Wide-eyed, she turns to me. “And Kai, they said they’re looking for you. ”