Anji’s brow furrowed. She had no clue what this woman was getting at. Orphaned, wandering the streets of Mudtown terrified and starving, she’d been grateful for any dry spot she could lie down, any person willing to give her something to eat—she didn’t have the luxury of caring what robes they wore or what they’d said. She’d regurgitated the proper prayers to get bits of bread and clean water, but nowhere in any of the many hours of sermons she’d forced herself to sit through had she ever heard of a “latent truth.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know,” she said, part of her curious, the other part of her hesitant to stoke whatever fire burned in this woman. The Bear’s mask and the visible strip of face beneath remained impassive. She clapped her hands together once, the sound echoing off the stone walls all around.

“My dear Ox! We may have the makings of an initiate with us here in this nave of the naive.”

The Ox huffed. “Not much time for full rites.”

The Bear’s shoulders slumped.

“That’s right,” she said. “Not the path chosen for you, of course.” She waved a hand, as though swatting at a fly. “No matter. We unworthy do not besmirch the One’s course with suggestion. You’ll face your fate with an honest heart.” Her jaw muscles flexed, the tendons in her exposed throat rigid. She stood in one graceful movement, arms outstretched.

“Oh, what times we endure, child. A plight of dissenters and doubters has descended upon Yem! Linura chokes with indolence and dishonor and debauchery.” Her body quivered with the words, voice rising in pitch. “Addiction! Thievery! Buggery! Beggars and tarts and fiends walking the streets. Murderous, villainous scum, the lot of them. Filth that stains the One’s design.”

What in the hells is this woman blathering about? Anji curled her knees to her chest, the fire a pleasant glow beside her. If the Bear wanted to yap about her religion until they all fell asleep, Anji would sit and listen, just like she had as a girl. There was no point trying to escape. Not yet.

The Bear backed away from the fire, yet not wholly out of its embrace. She lifted both hands to the ceiling, breathing in a lungful of air, then let it out in a rush before she went on.