The carriage stopped and Avena opened the door, stepping out with her too-short skirt. They swirled about her calves. Her cheeks burned, hoping no one noticed. That embarrassment ended when she saw the hungry eyes of the children clutching to their mothers’ skirts. They peered at her, faces dirty.
She still had her purse.
“Dualayn,” said Refractor Charlis. The priest moved out from behind the counter where he was supervising, an apron, stained with brown soup, covering his finer robes. “This is a surprise.”
“Your eminence,” said Dualayn, nodding his head. “You’re running a soup kitchen?”
“Doing what I can in these black times.” He glanced at Avena. “And a pleasure to see you, Avena. I am glad to see you’ve survived the Troubles.”
“Troubles?” Avena asked. “The riots?”
“I ended up sheltering in a spice monger’s basement. Almost sneezed myself to death when a bag of pepper spilled on my head.” The clergyman shook his head. The prism he wore sparkled in the sunlight peeping through a break in the gray clouds overhead. “A sad day. My secretary was not as fortunate as me.” The man let out a heavy sigh. “Well, that is why I am here. For the widows and orphans made that day. Elohm still shares His Colours even if some fear them.”
“Did they catch the villain who did it?”
Refractor Charlis’s face darkened. “No one knows. The city guard claims it wasn’t one of their numbers. It is chaos at the Temple. We haven’t had a high refractor murdered in two centuries. Normally, the transition is more . . . organized.”
“Are you going to be elected?” she asked.
“Me?” The man laughed, his apron shaking. “No, no, I expect it will be Refractor Haphen or Refractor Kexilon. Good men both. Either would make a fine man to refract the will of Elohm and share it with the rest of us. I need to stay in the House of Clerics and make sure the king’s taxes have some opposition.”
“More taxes?” Avena gasped.
The clergyman gave a helpless shrug. “I am only one man doing what I can for Elohm’s faithful.”
“On that note,” Dualayn said, “I must have a few words with you.” He took Refractor Charlis’s arms and the two men headed down a nearby alley to talk.
Avena watched, curious, then felt the eyes staring at her. The women were hard-faced, some with eyes red. A few looked about to collapse beneath an unseen weight while others stood tall against it, fiercely clutching their children as they waited.
Avena’s purse opened. She didn’t have much to spend her pay on. She was fed and clothed by Dualayn’s household. She tumbled out the coins in her hands—a collection of brass glimmers, nickel twinkles, and silver rays—and passed them out to the women.
“Elohm’s Orange fills you,” one woman said, tears beading as she carried a toddler on her hip, his upper lip crusted in snot running out of his red nose.
“And may His Green bless you,” Avena said. Green represented Elohm’s forgiveness. His mercy. Wasn’t God forgiving their inequities the greatest mercy imaginable? We are all diamonds stained with Black in need of His polishing.
Though the pain in the women’s eyes hurt, she felt a joyful beat in her heart as she returned to the carriage with Dualayn. Whatever he spoke with the clergyman had not taken long. Dualayn appeared satisfied and returned to his reading as the carriage lurched on.
Avena watched the widows, cheeks painted red or wearing scarlet ribbons, out of the window, hoping Ōbhin hadn’t made any of them.
It took another half-hour to reach the hospital. They passed St. Jettay’s Square. Many were there praying, the square decorated in bright flowers, all the Colours of Elohm on display. Those in mourning bedecked themselves in as many hues as they could, not letting the Black see them weakened.
Beyond, the city was much the same as they’d already passed. Soon they turned on to the side street and passed the outer wall surrounding the hospital. They reached the open loading yard at the back. Miguil guided the carriage inside and reined up.
Avena smiled. Daughter Deffona waited dressed in her robes of sunshine. Her wimple framed her bright face. The excitement in Deffona’s eyes, despite the dark bags beneath them, punctured through Avena’s own happiness. The truth she’d realized about herself swelled inside of her soul. She climbed out of the carriage with a heavy heart.
“Avena!” Daughter Deffona said moments before sweeping Avena in an embrace. “I’m so glad you’re safe. It was so scary during the Troubles. We were afraid they would spill in here. Eldest Daughter Anglia had to bar the front door!”
“It was scary out there,” Avena said. “If we didn’t have Ōbhin . . .”
Her friend smiled at his name, her cheeks dimpling. “Did he do something heroic? Something dashing?”
Avena glanced back at the carriage. Ōbhin and Fingers were climbing down from their seats beside Miguil, their chainmail armor rattling. Ōbhin rested his black-gloved hand on his sword hilt, his eyes scanning.
“We have to talk,” Avena said. “Privately.”
“Something’s happened!” Daughter Deffona took her hand, excitement twinkling in her brown eyes. “I know the perfect spot. Hurry, before the eldest catches us.”
Avena nodded as Deffona led her not towards the open doors that led to the
