Muzhira’s sanguine stare rested on Cannoli for the duration of their breakfast and then into the brief overview of day-to-day life in the temple. Cannoli squirmed beneath that gaze, fighting to keep her attention on Sahzi and the other initiates while hoping she was simply imagining the intense anger that lingered just beneath the surface of Muzhira’s expression.

“Before your study period, your measurements will be taken for a set of white robes,” Sahzi explained as they walked back to the dorms. Her and the initiates walked with silent steps while Cannoli’s feet fell to the ground like a hammer on a forge. “These robes will follow you on your path, gaining ornamentation only when deserved.”

“M-may I ask a question?” Cannoli stammered. She shivered when Muzhira’s lips curled into a sneer.

Sahzi nodded. “Of course, child.”

“What’s the difference between earning sapphires and robe ornamentation?”

“A very observant question, Cannoli. Your robes will improve when your tutors deem you ready to advance to the next area of study. Sapphires may be given out at any time by anyone should you show a deep understanding of Saoirse’s ways.”

“I believe it is important to note that sapphires can be taken away,” Muzhira chimed in.

“That is correct, Muzhira. While your robes will never lose their adornments, should you display behavior unbefitting of an [Acolyte], your tutors or the prophets themselves can reclaim your sapphires.”

Cannoli’s anxiety must have been plain to see because Rozalyn touched her shoulder and quickly whispered, “That never happens.”

A tiny bit of tension eased from her shoulders, and Cannoli took a deep breath. “I would like to confirm what is expected of me from this day forward, Sister Sahzi, if I may.”

“By all means.” She paused outside the dormitories, and they fanned out around her.

Cannoli squared her shoulders. There was so much to remember for just her first day! But she was determined to prove that she was right where she belonged. “After my measurements this afternoon, my first instructor will be Sister Cecilia in the library. Then, there is an hour of prayer inside the sanctuary, and the four of us will go to the kitchens to help prepare dinner. Next, I will report to Sister Madeleine in the observatory for my evening lesson, followed by one more hour of prayer, and then it is curfew.”

“Yes, you have it exactly right.” Sahzi nodded her approval. “Tomorrow will be the same; however, you will have your morning class with Sister Allegra, and an hour of prayer will follow. Higher initiates will prepare breakfast and lunch; you are only responsible for assisting with dinner.”

Cora’s hands twitched behind her back, and she shifted her weight between her tiny feet. In Cannoli’s eyes, she was still a kitten. It was a miracle that the poor thing could stand still for so long.

“Thank you very much, Sister Sahzi. I think I’m okay from here,” Cannoli said earnestly—Cora was going to burst if she had to stay there much longer.

“Excellent. Please do not hesitate to ask me, your peers, or your teachers should you need guidance.” Sahzi bowed. “We walk our paths together, children. Never forget that.”

“Saoirse be with us,” Cora, Rozalyn, and Muzhira said in unison as they bowed. Cannoli joined them in haste, her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she bent forward.

Sahzi glided away as if her feet never touched the ground and left Cannoli alone with her fellow initiates. Cora rushed into the dorms without another word, her tail flicking back and forth with pent-up energy. Muzhira took a step forward, but Rozalyn was faster, sidestepping toward Cannoli and cutting Muzhira off.

“Shall I show you to the dressing room, Cannoli?” Rozalyn grinned.

“That would be wonderful. Yes, please.” Cannoli’s heart raced when Muzhira’s face darkened behind Rozalyn’s shoulder.

“Perfect!” Rozalyn grabbed Cannoli’s hand and tugged. “This way!”

Muzhira watched them go before vanishing behind the dorm room’s door.

“You okay?” Rozalyn whispered once they were out of earshot.

“I think so,” Cannoli replied. Her fingers trembled in Rozalyn’s grasp. “Is Muzhira always, well, like this?”

“Honestly, I’ve never seen her in such a mood before,” Rozalyn murmured. “Did she say anything to you?”

Cannoli chewed the inside of her cheek. Was it safe to tell Rozalyn what had happened on Ichi Island? Was it safe to tell anyone? Ever since Matt decided to let Yomi go free and continue his quest to unite the men, the world felt off balance. This was not the same Nyarlea of Cannoli’s or Rozalyn’s mothers or grandmothers. Too much was changing too quickly. “I think she said I look familiar.”

“I heard that. I meant anything else,” Rozalyn said.

No. It wasn’t safe. Cannoli knew nothing about Rozalyn, and spreading how Magni died could only make Muzhira’s intentions worse. “N-no. That was all.”

“Hmm.” Rozalyn released Cannoli’s hand. “Well, I’ll keep my ears low and tell you if she says anything.”

“That’s very kind of you, Rozalyn, thank you.” Desperately searching for a change of topic, Cannoli continued, “Where are you from?”

“Born and raised in Dreake, all the way on the other side of Nyarlothep.” She made a wide swoop of her arm. “My mother was a [Bishop], and this is always what she wanted for me. So, here I am. What about you?”

“I’m from Junonia on Ni Island. My mother was a [Bishop], too. But—” Four tiny legs skittered from her pocket and scrambled to her shoulder.

Rozalyn gasped. “Goodness! Is that a blazard?”

“Buttons! Yes!” Cannoli giggled and swept him into her hands. “Were you sleeping this whole time?”

Buttons yawned, then sneezed a puff of smoke.

“He’s so cute!” Rozalyn squealed, then lowered her voice and cupped her hands over Cannoli’s. “But we’re not supposed to have Encroachers in the temple. Not even familiars. They’re really strict about it.”

Cannoli’s heart sank. Buttons had been with her through everything. When no one else listened, she could always depend on her little blazard. She couldn’t just leave him outside—the thought alone brought tears to her eyes. Buttons alone in the dark, searching for peanuts, wondering where Cannoli went.

“Aw, hey, no. Don’t cry.” Rozalyn touched her shoulder. She bit her lower lip and huffed a long breath of air through her nose. “Okay. Let me take him for now. Get your measurements, and I’ll…well, I’ll show you when you’re done.”

Cannoli looked from Buttons to Rozalyn. The only people she’d ever trusted him with was her Party. Buttons looked up at her and tilted his head. But the alternative sounded too painful. “Alright.” She raised her hands. “Go with Rozalyn, Buttons. I’ll see you soon.”

Buttons crawled into Rozalyn’s hands with timid steps. She opened the panel of her white robes and ushered him into an inside pocket. “In you go, little guy. You’ll be safe with me.” Buttons slid inside, and his outline settled into a comfortable blob.

“Please be careful with him,” Cannoli said. She’d tried her best to hold back—she didn’t want it to seem like she suspected Rozalyn of harming Buttons. But he meant so much to her…

“My mother hated it, but I used to keep a lot of Encroacher pets growing up. He’ll be safe and very happy. You’ll see.” Rozalyn closed her robe. “Now, let’s get you to the dressing room before they send someone to find you.”

They hurried to the dressing room, where a young woman with curled brunette hair and silver eyes ushered Cannoli onto a square platform. Rozalyn bowed and left them together, taking Buttons with her. Cannoli did her best to even her breathing and offer calm answers to the tailor, raising her arms and lifting her tail when asked.

In just under an hour, Cannoli was fitted with her first robes of Saoirse. The belled sleeves hung loose on her wrists, and yards of smooth white satin flowed around her ankles. It was a beautiful garment—one the tailor promised Cannoli would receive two copies of very soon. Apparently, tending to their robes was a careful practice done by all of Saoirse’s initiates every three days. 

Cannoli thanked the tailor for her help, having already forgotten the sister’s name as she rushed to find Rozalyn. Cannoli was relieved to find her without Cora and Muzhira in the dorm room.

“You look wonderful in your robe,” Rozalyn greeted her. “And Buttons is happy and safe.”

“May I see him?” Cannoli asked, hoping she didn’t sound too desperate.

“Yes. However, Cannoli, if you want to return to him in the future, we must go together. Understand?”

Cannoli nodded and clasped her hands at her chest. “Of course.”

Rozalyn led the way through the grand halls, and Cannoli didn’t bother to mask her footsteps. Not feeling Buttons’s familiar wriggles and breathing in her robes was like having the wind knocked out of her. She had to know that he was okay.

They passed through rooms filled with linens, then food supplies, and then areas with boxes upon boxes of unlabeled contents. At last, Rozalyn turned through a shadowed door in a dusty, neglected storage room. It opened into a narrow hallway with oil lamps every ten steps or so near the ceiling.

“What is this place?” Cannoli murmured.

“I’ve heard a lot of rumors, but I’m not entirely sure.” Rozalyn traced the wall’s dark stone with her fingertips. “The important part is that no one comes in here.”

“Who lights the lamps?” Cannoli wondered.

“They’re Enchanted. I don’t think even the temple’s servants come here.”

“O-oh. I see.” The hairs on Cannoli’s arms stood on end, and she suddenly felt very cold. It reminded her of the underground tunnels in Anyona. As they continued deeper, her uneasiness grew worse as she imagined Buttons in such a dreary hallway.

“In here.” Rozalyn came to another unmarked door. She fished a key from the pocket of her robe and slid it inside the lock. 

“You have a key?”

“Yeah. I found it in the lock.” Rozalyn giggled. “It makes you wonder, right?”

“Hm.”

The door loosened with a soft click, and Rozalyn ushered them both inside.

To Cannoli’s immense surprise, the room she stepped into was nothing like the hallway. Shelves of dusty tomes, empty bottles, and [Alchemy] equipment lined the walls. A rectangular window welcomed the early afternoon sun inside, illuminating a handful of thriving potted plants with long branches and tiny leaves—ivy, Cannoli thought. There was a large blue rug with gold embellishments splayed across the floor, and a single leather chair stood stalwart at a writing desk. The room was warm and inviting, made merrier by a small, crackling fire inside a golden hearth.

Rozalyn touched the chair and peered out the window. Without looking at Cannoli, she said, “This is kind of my secret hideout. For when I just need some time to myself.” She ran a hand through her hair and licked her lips. “I’ve…never shown it to anyone before.”

“This is really amazing, Rozalyn,” Cannoli marveled. “I haven’t had a hideout since I was a kitten. But, well, why tell me?”

“Because….here. Look. They’re right down here.” Rozalyn knelt at one of the shelves and pulled away a sheet riddled with holes.

“‘They?’” Cannoli asked, kneeling beside her.

“Mhm.” Behind the blanket, Buttons lay curled, sleeping soundly beside a bright pink copy of himself. A soft blanket and little baskets of food surrounded them on either side. “Buttons and Freckles.”

Cannoli gaped. “You have a blazard, too!” 

“I’ve never met anyone else who keeps a blazard as a pet.” Rozalyn stroked Freckles’s speckled face with delicate fingers. “Maybe it’s the work of Saoirse, but I think we’re meant to walk our paths together, Cannoli.”

Cannoli’s chest and heart warmed. She didn’t have to do this alone. Rozalyn was a kind person, and it was clear that Freckles was well taken care of. If Cannoli didn’t know anything else about Rozalyn, that was enough. “Thank you, Rozalyn.”

“You’re welcome. But like I said, I keep the key on me at all times. If you want to visit him, just ask. I’ll make sure they’re both fed and warm in the meantime.”

“It’s a deal.” Cannoli grinned and stood, dusting off the knees of her new white robe. She glanced over the discarded books on a nearby shelf, and curiosity got the best of her. “Let’s see here.” She pulled one away and brushed her hand over the cover. The title perplexed her, and she replaced it in favor of another book. The subject was the same. “Rozalyn?”

“Hm?” Rozalyn carefully repositioned the sheet over the blazards and stood to join Cannoli.

“What’s a [Magistrate]?”

“Certainly not the concern of two fledgling initiates,” an authoritative voice snapped behind them.

Cannoli’s heart skipped. She and Rozalyn spun to find a golden-robed sister with sapphires glittering in her yellow hair. Beside her stood Muzhira with a knowing smile on her face.