I joined the line to pay my respects. The Eater’s opinion of me was unlikely to be favourable at the moment. I seemed, after all, to be working for a sect that intended to undermine the existing Order. Not to mention my attempts to escape Renewal duty. And, well, there was also Finn.

“May your mercy shelter me,” I murmured as I reached the front of the queue. I knelt and gestured reverence. “May you teach me humility and grace.”

I stood and moved out of the way of the man behind me. Over the crackle of burning wood, I heard the bells ringing. I should head to the Candle.

I am not sure what about her caught my attention. It might have been that her bearing struck me as out of place: the easy assurance of her posture, the restraint of her movements. She wore civilian clothing, nothing extravagant, although maybe a little warmer than the weather warranted.

Reverend Celane walked quickly over the Orchard Road footbridge and disappeared into the Lokon District of Major East.

I frowned. What was a Councilwoman, the Chief Archivist of the Department of Memories, doing all alone in the low districts? Usually Reverends attended private functions on Moon Tide Eve. I was sure it was her too; that elegantly styled hair was a giveaway.

How very convenient, then, that I was headed in the same direction.

The road narrowed beyond the bridge. I sidled through the stream of people, standing on my toes to see above their heads. At the corner, Celane stopped. I could see her face in profile; she was scanning the crowd. Looking for someone. I averted my gaze toward a stall selling candied plums and hardboiled sugar sweets. Had to be careful.

When I glanced up again, Celane was speaking to a woman with short, slicked-back hair. The Reverend’s expression was impatient. She shook her head and repeated something emphatically.

I edged closer. The newcomer had her back to me, but looked like a regular citizen. She rested her hands on her hips. I couldn’t see any sign of a Sisterhood tattoo on her wrist, and Celane’s arms were covered by her long sleeves. Interesting. The woman motioned toward the city wall.

Over the noise of the crowds, I would never be able to hear their conversation. I slowed, then wandered over to the leatherworks stall on the other side of the street. Whatever Celane’s business, she meant to keep it quiet. Councilwomen had every resource and luxury on Aytrium available to them, so she must have been after something that was either illegal or embarrassing.

“You like it?” the vendor asked me.

“What?”

“The bag.”

I picked up a satchel at random, still watching Celane out of the corner of my eye. “Very nice. Although I’m not sure I need one.”

The stranger walked off toward Pearl Boulevard. Damn. Celane watched her go with narrowed eyes, then turned and headed deeper into Lokon.