Shorn by Larissa N. N. Davila

Author:Larissa N. N. Davila [Davila, Larissa N. N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stone Raven Press
Published: 2022-04-18T16:00:00+00:00

13.

MESSENGERS

“Lady, wait! I must speak with you.”

Nemiah continued down the crowded corridor, the faces of the acolytes and the novices that parted before her only a blur. If she moved fast enough, perhaps she could outrun the memory of the child’s face.

“Not now, Clemina. The Day of Dawnings approaches and the city is filled with pilgrims whose petitions must be heard. I don’t have time just now.”

The footsteps behind her didn’t falter. Clemina was as tenacious as a rat hound. It was for that trait, and not for intelligence or subtlety, that the Higher Circle had chosen her to be their Mistress of Messages.

“Lady, it’s very important.”

Nemiah turned a corner. Thanks to Kaliska’s network, she already knew what the Circle thought was so important today. Not much farther to her rooms. Perhaps she shouldn’t feel this way; the Day of Dawnings marked a time of transitions, after all. Death was only a transition from the Paths of the living to Riana’s Hidden Paths.

“Lady!” Clemina called, hurrying to catch up.

Rom bowed as Nemiah reached her door. “The Bearer waits within,” he said quietly.

Then, with the slightest flicker of his gaze, he indicated the priestess at her heels. Nemiah gave a tiny shake of her head. Riana bless him; he knew her mind without a word.

A loud throat-clearing announced that Clemina wasn’t deterred. “The Mistress of Novices requests a meeting with you, Lady Nemiah. It’s an urgent matter.”

Urgent? Nemiah would have laughed, but the morning’s petitions had revealed such a loss that it was impossible. She drew herself straight and turned.

“Sister Carian knows the way to my receiving rooms. I will be there, as ever, before the evening devotion to speak with her, or any other of Riana’s servants.”

“But…it’s the Higher Circle that you delay.”

Nemiah felt genuine pity for the girl’s confusion. Clemina wasn’t savvy enough to play Carian’s game; she was simply trapped in the middle. Despite all of Carian’s demands for a new Path, she appeared not at all pleased that Nemiah had started them moving in a new direction.

“Child, the Circle spins around the sphere that is Riana. Not the other way. You must not forget that, even if the rest have. If the Mistress of Novices wishes to contest my decision to allow our sisters to serve outside the walls for the holy days, then let her come to me. For yourself, you would serve Riana better by preparing for the Day of Dawnings.”

She turned, and Rom opened the door, gifting the stunned Clemina with an unyielding frown.

Nemiah made it over the threshold: another kind of transition, there. She stepped through the antechamber and drew a shaky breath.

“A child, Leita. He was no more than four winters. A perfect, beautiful boy. Dead in his father’s arms.”

“Children die on Riana’s Paths.”

“They’re not meant to die like this. Not crushed under his family’s barn while trying to find protection from the knives of this storm that kills.”

Merisel approached, offering tea. Nemiah waved it away, then caught the scent of boldblood and snatched it up.

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