The Council Building was situated in the Minor East Quadrant, the wealthiest sector of the city. It stood four storeys high, overlooking the college grounds and the Department of Memories. The old building projected an air of stately grandeur, with its yellow stone walls and fine latticework, its mythic friezes, its jutting balconies and sloping gullwing roof. The oldest wing of the building was home to the Conclave of Representatives, and dated back to the Great Fire of the Ash Disciple rebellion almost four hundred years ago.
I seldom had reason to visit the Council Building. In fact, I had not seen the interior since my induction as an Acolyte last year.
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be.” I gazed up at the carved pillars. Sisters were leaving the building, work concluded for the day. “If the Council is in session, it could be a while.”
“I’ll take that as a hint,” said Finn. “Want to drop by the Candle afterwards?”
“It’s been a long day.”
“I thought you might say that.” A strange expression passed over his face. “El, I’ve been thinking…”
He trailed off.
“What is it?”
“Probably nothing. Forget it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Yeah, I’m sure. Listen, are you free tomorrow? Millie has plans.”
“What kind of plans?”
“It’s Daje’s birthday. I’m supposed to convince you to attend. So, you know, please come.”
I laughed. “Convincing.”
“I try. So?”
“I don’t know, would Daje really want me there? We aren’t exactly close.”
Finn shook his head. “It’s fine, it’s just a casual thing in the Gardens. I get the impression it’s more for Millie’s benefit anyway.”
“Still…”
“He won’t mind.”
I thought for a moment. Sisters were granted a day off after any pilgrimage, and although I wanted to see my mother, that wouldn’t take more than an hour.
“All right,” I said, still a little uncertain. “If you’re sure it’s okay.”
Finn grinned. “Great. Meet me at the graveyard at third bell?”
“Fourth?”
“Sure.” He leaned forward quickly and kissed me on the cheek. “See you then.”
He was walking away from me before I could think of anything to say. My cheek burned, and I felt, suddenly, as if the eyes of the whole city were upon me.
I hurried up the steps. Reckless idiot.
Cool, dry air wafted out into the evening; the walls of the building were thick, and chambers within always cold. At the entrance, the Acolyte on guard gestured welcome to me.
“Is the Council still in session?” I asked.
She nodded. “I believe so, but they should finish shortly. Do you need help finding them?”
“I think I’ll manage, but thank you.”
My footfalls echoed on the tiles. The foyer was vast and dim; red carpeted stairs bordered the chamber, and a great brass chandelier hung from the ceiling. Marble busts of prior Councilwomen sat in recessed alcoves. Their eyes seemed faintly accusatory to me. A statue of the Star Eater stood on a raised pedestal in the centre of the room. The old woman had a stern expression, but her hands reached outwards, ready to embrace penitents. Small offerings covered her bare feet.
I paused to pay respect, then headed up the right-hand staircase to the third floor. The workday was done, so the Council must be running late. Probably struggling to reach consensus on the water crisis.
Oil paintings crowded the walls of the eastern wing corridors. The old floorboards groaned as I made my way toward the Council chambers. I had never been to this part of the building before, and could not quite shake the sense that I was trespassing. The murky glass of the windows only let in thin, watery light, and the smell of lantern oil and varnish was cloying.
I followed the sound of voices. As I got closer, I could catch snatches of an argument.
“… won’t be anything left to preserve if they tear down the walls!”
Someone spoke with a mollifying tone. I did not catch their words.
“I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation.” That was Reverend Deselle Somme, Head of Food Management. She spoke slowly and clearly, and her deep voice carried well. “If we don’t implement measures now, we are setting ourselves up for full-scale civilian revolt.”
An Acolyte stood outside the doors to the Conclave. She wore a heavy yellow uniform, with tasselled shoulders and a tricorn hat. When she caught my eye, she grimaced. Outside the door, the Reverends’ every word was audible.
“It’s high time that the radicals were served a reminder of who rules this city. We can handle the situation.”
“Who is ‘we,’ Jiana?” A new voice, icy and authoritative. “Because I’m fairly certain you mean ‘Enforcement can handle the situation,’ and that means I will have to handle the situation.”
“They’ve been at it for an hour,” the Acolyte whispered to me. “If you have a message, I can pass it on for you. This could last all night.”
I winced. “Unfortunately, it’s urgent.”
The Acolyte nodded sympathetically. “In that case, rather you than me.”
At least I was back in the city. If I could handle the visions, then surely I could face the Council. I raised my hand and knocked on the varnished wooden door.
“Your convenience is not a priority.”
“This is not about convenience. You know what will upset the civilians? The cancellation of a festival they’ve been preparing for since last year.”
The uniformed Acolyte gave me an embarrassed smile.
“They probably won’t hear you,” she whispered. “You’ll have to intrude.”
Better to get it over with. I steeled myself, and pushed open the door.
The Conclave of Representatives chamber fell quiet. The room was much larger than I had anticipated, with the thirteen representatives seated in a ring behind individual stone podiums. A huge map of the island was painted on the floor, the names of towns and rivers etched in gold. Three of the Reverends were on their feet, their argument stalled by my appearance. The other ten remained seated beneath the coloured banners of their departments.
I stepped inside and gestured respect and regret. My throat felt bone-dry.
“What is the meaning of this?” Reverend Jiana Morwin of the Department of Public Health fixed me with a cold stare. Her skin was flushed with anger.
“Please forgive my intrusion,” I rasped. I cleared my throat. “I have an emergency missive from Reverend Shaelean Cyde of the Moon House.”
“Whatever it is, I hardly think it justifies disrupting session.”
I swallowed. Although I knew who all the Councilwomen were, I had only ever spoken to Reverend Somme, who was the head of my department. The thirteen most powerful individuals on Aytrium, and I had barged into the middle of their meeting.
“Come now, Jiana,” said Reverend Yelina Celane, the Chief Archivist of the Department of Memories. Her robes bore the green quill insignia of her department, and she appeared quite at ease. She smiled at me. “No need to be rude. Your name, Acolyte?”
“Elfreda Raughn, Honoured Councilwoman.” I drew Cyde’s report out of my bag and hesitated, unsure who I should present it to. To my relief, Reverend Somme held out her hand.
“Very good,” said Reverend Celane. “Thank you for your service, Acolyte Raughn. You may go now.”
“One moment.”
Reverend Saskia Asan was the youngest member of the Council and its most recent addition. She served as the Commander General of the Department of Enforcement, the Sisterhood’s military force. Rumour suggested that she was one of the most talented lace-weavers of the last century, and, despite her coarse demeanour, one of the smartest women in the Sisterhood.
“You aren’t a House member,” she said. “Unless you’re wearing someone else’s robes.”
“I was part of the Moon Pillar pilgrimage and available to deliver Reverend Cyde’s report.”
“Please speak louder.”
“The House members were occupied,” I said, raising my voice. Other members of the Council whispered to one another. Sweat rolled down my back.
“Huh.” Reverend Asan folded her arms and slouched on her chair. “Irregular.”
Reverend Somme finished reading Cyde’s letter. Her gaze flicked toward Reverend Asan, and she set down the paper.
“Thank you, Elfreda, that will be all,” she said.
I bowed. The whispering grew louder. I backed out of the room and closed the heavy door behind me. My hands shook.
“What was all that about?” asked the Acolyte.
“I’m not authorised to say.” Although, given her position, she would no doubt find out shortly. One of the perks of her job, I imagined. I could hear the murmur of Reverend Somme’s voice as she read Cyde’s report to the Conclave, too low to understand. The Acolyte frowned at me.
“Enjoy your evening,” I said.
The truth would leak to the rest of the Order soon enough anyway. I doubted that the Reverends could keep the Haunt a secret, not after so many Sisters were involved in its capture and disposal. I hurried back down the corridor. The news would be all over the dormitories by tomorrow.
By the time I reached the entrance to the building, evening had fallen. An Oblate was lighting the votive candles at the base of the Star Eater’s statue, murmuring a devotional as she moved from one taper to the next. Tiny white moths fluttered around the open flames. The tiles below were already dotted with the singed wings of the dead.