I slipped out from behind the pillar to prepare, and because I was curious about what sort of amulets he had made. For house hauntings, debtera had to go directly to the source. But if someone was having sudden bad luck, or sickly livestock, or their crops weren’t doing well, a basic amulet for that purpose would usually deter the influence of the Evil Eye.

Those were the first types of amulet designs I learned to construct, even before Jember actually had a mind to teach me. It was the ritual that made them take a long time, not the construction itself.

I waited until the last person was leaving before stepping up to the altar. “Jember, I need your help.”

He didn’t bother to look at me as he gathered his things. “Just give me the name.” His voice sounded strained.

I bit my lip. I’d had specific instructions—extremely specific, with equally graphic consequences if I were to disobey—from Jember while he was throwing me out: Don’t bother him unless I was in danger. Couldn’t find food? Figure it out. Nowhere to sleep? Not his problem. But if anyone threatened or tried to hurt me? That was the one and only issue I was allowed to bring to him.

I was pretty good at staying out of danger, partly because I’m small and know my physical limit and so try to stay out of people’s way. But mostly, because I never wanted to have to go to him for help. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing him on his terms.

But I didn’t have a name, and it didn’t feel right giving one just to make him stop and listen to me, especially since whomever I named might end up dead by the afternoon.

“It’s about a job,” I said quickly. “This Manifes—”

He walked away without a glance. His legs were far longer than mine, so even with his limp I rushed to catch up.

“I just need to know if I cleansed it correctly,” I said.

He still didn’t stop. He was almost to the room at the back of the hall where—as an unlicensed debtera—I wasn’t allowed. It was where the priests changed from their street clothes into their holy robes before services.

I ran in front of him to block the entryway. “Jember—”

“Don’t bother me, girl.”

Instead of allowing me to move of my own free will, he shoved me with the spine of the book he was holding against the side of my face. I stumbled to the side, grateful he hadn’t full-on hit me, but angry at myself for not grounding myself better.