“Oh! That seems interesting.”

“Please don’t get her started on the bugs,” Millie muttered.

“So you must be quite knowledgeable about the water shortages, then?”

I nodded. “We work extensively with Water and Sanitation.”

“Yes,” drawled Verje from across the table, “so extensively that sometimes Food Management sees my department as a subsidiary of its own. Or at least, that’s the impression I’ve received from Deselle Somme.”

Once again, seeing Verje up close unnerved me. Although her voice was friendly enough, I could not shake the sense that her mannerisms were staged. Too deliberate. As if her actions were telegraphed long in advance and she had only been waiting for the right cue to begin performing them.

I might have been influenced by rumours I had heard about the Reverend, however; whispers that still circulated the dormitories. All Oblates trained in butchery before their induction as Acolytes, mostly working with dead pigs or sheep. It was a grisly education, but necessary.

It would have been over thirty years ago now, but people still gossiped that Verje had delighted in honing her flesh-cutting on live animals.

“I don’t think that’s the case,” I said carefully.

The Reverend laughed. “It certainly won’t be going forward. I plan to run a tighter ship than Kisme, may the Star light her dreaming.” She paused to drink. “I mean, the projects I hear about are insane.”

“Insane?”

“No disrespect to you, Acolyte. I’m sure you work very hard, but I don’t think toasted locusts are really the way to go.”

Under the table, Millie placed her hand on my leg.

“I’ve tried them,” she said, with an easy smile. “I think they’ll be quite popular, if there’s not much else available.”

“There’s more than enough food ‘available,’” said Verje. “And we’re anticipating a change in the weather soon anyway.”

Celane cleared her throat.

“I hear about the water problems every day in the Conclave, so perhaps a different subject? Although…” She turned to me. “Given the loss of Herald Zenza Lenard, I believe Elfreda will be giving a presentation at the water symposium in her place.”

This was news to me.

“But I’m only a junior officer,” I said.

“You have important first-hand insight into the issue. I think Reverend Somme was going to issue the invitation tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“Jesane, you are also attending, yes?”

Jesane nodded, and the conversation moved on. It surprised me that Reverend Somme had not asked me whether I wanted to take part in the symposium, especially if she expected me to deliver Zenza’s presentation. She had always been sensitive in the past; she must know I would find this difficult. But I suppose that the Reverend was also under a lot of pressure.

“Raughn.”

I looked up from my empty plate. “Yes?”

“Your name has been bothering me for a while,” said Verje. “Raughn, as in Kirane Raughn? She was your mother?”

I felt cold. “She is my mother, yes.”

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty-two.”