“I’ll take it,” Satrine said impulsively, reaching out for it.
“Really?”
“Lannie,” Satrine said. “I don’t know if I can explain it, but that girl—she’s . . . she’s guided by something. Whatever it is, I’m not saying I understand it, but—and I’m amazed I’m saying this—I have faith in it.”
“I want to have faith in it. In her. Even in this torn-up book.” She thumbed through the pages. “I can’t even imagine—she actually rewrote the first part of the Testament of Saint Jesslyn, so it opens with ‘listen to the gardener, seek answers when she calls.’”
“Listen to the who?” a voice called from down the hall. Satrine reached out and grabbed the damaged book from Sister Alana before the other cloistress came into the kitchen.
“Listen to the wise men, but seek shelter from their lies,” Alana said a little louder, correctly citing the passage.
“That’s my daily life,” Satrine said as she stuck the book inside her coat. One of the other cloistresses stumbled into the kitchen.
“I must be losing my ears,” the cloistress said. “Are we hosting the Constabulary in here?”
“Council for every citizen is our mandate,” Alana said. “Especially old friends.”
“These are our sanctums, though,” the cloistress said.
“I’ll go,” Satrine said, getting up.
“I’ll see you out,” Alana said, taking Satrine out the back door.
“That was Sister Enigaria?” Satrine asked when they were outside.
“The very same,” Alana said. “You’re to work?”
“I must,” Satrine said. “I now have more family to support.”
“Dayne was concerned about children missing from Dentonhill.”
“Minox is as well,” Satrine said. “Whatever I stopped earlier this month, it wasn’t enough.”
“Should I tell them anything from you?”
“I talked to Minox last night, and today he’s—” Satrine wasn’t sure what to say. She understood exactly what was going on in Minox’s head, and in her heart, she was with him. She wished she could be there with him. “If he comes, tell—remind him that he’s not alone. Especially when it comes to acting outside the law.”
“Outs—” Alana gasped. “I guess I didn’t think it would come to that so soon. Of course I will.”
“Thank you.”
“Walk with the saints,” Alana said, embracing Satrine. “Have a blessed day.”
“And you,” Satrine said.
It wasn’t much, but the blessing and friendship would have to be enough to get her through the day.
A burning instinct told her today was going to be a bad one.
Minox knew he would endure some difficulty coming down to breakfast with the family out of uniform.
“Are you all right?” his brother Jace asked amid the shocked expressions. Almost the entire household was already at the table—some ready to go to work, some having come in from a night shift. Corrie’s seat remained empty, though Mother had set her place anyway, as was Nyla’s. Nyla had rarely come out of her room in the past two weeks.
“In many ways, the answer is no,” Minox said. “I could catalog them if you want, starting with the loss of our sister.”
“Foul, unfair,” his cousin Davis said. “That’s hitting all of us, and you know it.”
“True,” Minox said, taking bread and butter from the basket in front of him. “But I also have several other issues in play, including being removed from my duties. I need to deal with those personal matters, and I have banked the time to take off.”
“That’s good,” Aunt Emma said. “All of you bottle yourselves up too damned much and work yourselves silly.” She pointed an accusing finger at Ferah and Edard. “I heard you two talking about Nyla not going back to work.”
“I’m just worried about her,” Ferah said. Someone knocked at the front door, and Jace left the table to get it.
“She needs to rest is all,” Emma said.
Minox’s mother came and served him eggs and sausages with Kellirac spiced cream. “It’s nothing dangerous, is it? You shouldn’t—you shouldn’t do anything alone.”
“It’s personal business, Mother,” Minox said. “Mostly in the City Records, legal concerns for my status.” He hated to lie to her, but he could not have her worrying. Her heart couldn’t bear it.
Jace came back from the door, his face screwed in thought.
“Who was at the door?” Minox’s uncle Cole asked.
“Strange bird,” Jace said. “Cloistress, about my age.”
“What did she want?” Davis asked.
“Nothing, really. She said, ‘Tell unto your brothers to be guided by those who tend the path.’ And then she walked off.” He shrugged and pointed to Minox and their brother Oren at the far end of the table. “So, I told you.”
“It’s from the Testament of Saint Deshar,” Ferah said. Everyone looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Am I the only one who’s paid attention to the parables?”
Minox saw no need to answer. Where he planned to go today, it was likely no saint could help him.
Amaya made a point not to show any favoritism toward Jerinne Fendall during the morning training. It was the same principle Master Denbar had treated her with during her Initiacy. They wanted no suspicion placed on her, no suggestion that her place at the top of the cohort was anything but earned. No one ever knew that Master Denbar was her mother’s cousin, not even Dayne.
That wasn’t the reason behind the facade between her and Jerinne in front of the rest of the Initiates. Jerinne had been consistently ranked near the bottom of the cohort, undeservedly, because that’s what Grandmaster Orren and Master Nedell decreed. Amaya was certain that one of those two men were The Warrior of this Grand Ten conspiracy, and they were punishing Jerinne, drumming her out of the Order, for the part she played in the Patriot’s Ordeal and the Election Crisis.
Amaya knew damn well Jerinne should be a Tarian. That was clear every morning. Most of the third-year Initiates were now up before the dawn, joining Amaya on her run up the Trelan Docks and back, and Jerinne was the one who always kept pace with Amaya. They’d get back to the chapterhouse and go through Vien’s Spathian-inspired calisthenics, Jerinne pushing harder and stronger than anyone else in the
