Ever since Father Guillarme told me the truth I have counted down the days until they made me a true Circle member and I would be allowed to do as I pleased. That is all I've ever wanted growing up in a family of boys with no money for a dowry. Which is why, obviously, I ran to Paris at the first opportunity. As it turns out, the devil you know is far better than the devil you don't. I was sleeping in the gutter within three weeks of arriving in the city. If Guillarme hadn't found me I'd probably be lost to the sweatbox or selling myself for meager rations of food.
The wind whips at me harder, a cold wind rushing in from the countryside. Storm clouds rise within seconds, billowing dark and threatening. Run they say. Run from what you do not understand little girl.
With a sigh I heave myself up and start the long walk down quiet streets which only an hour ago had been bursting at the seams. Children too young to do work peer out at me from behind grime covered windows for I have reached the edge of the Glittering Paris and am now in the slums. The children pop up and smile at me from time to time but mostly they look cautious and weathered. Left alone to fend for themselves from sunup to sundown- they know what monsters lurk these streets. This is the price a society pays, I suppose, for "modernization".
The first drops fall, fat and warm, on my coat sleeve. I relish it as the pick up frequency. I want to dance. I want to sing. I want to thank and praise whatever greater power exists that they have sent me this wonderful, mind numbing rain to wash away the events of the past few hours.
But the Book is still in my hands and I realize it is most likely a priceless artifact as three drops fall onto its cover, permanently staining it. St. Denis Cathedral is within sight and so I sprint toward it, stopping only when I reach the side door. I take a deep breath and whisper the same prayer I always do, "Lord Almighty have mercy on my soul and protect us." Even though I no longer believe in God.
I head straight to the confessional and sit down. After a few moments' silence Father Louis, Father Guillarme's undersecretary, takes a seat on the other side of the screen. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned." It comes out as a whisper for I find that is all I'm capable of.
"Catherina." Father Louis says, calling me by the Christian name the Circle gave me. "Where have you been?" He adds brusquely. He's never much liked me.
"Does it matter?" I sigh.
"
The wind whips at me harder, a cold wind rushing in from the countryside. Storm clouds rise within seconds, billowing dark and threatening. Run they say. Run from what you do not understand little girl.
With a sigh I heave myself up and start the long walk down quiet streets which only an hour ago had been bursting at the seams. Children too young to do work peer out at me from behind grime covered windows for I have reached the edge of the Glittering Paris and am now in the slums. The children pop up and smile at me from time to time but mostly they look cautious and weathered. Left alone to fend for themselves from sunup to sundown- they know what monsters lurk these streets. This is the price a society pays, I suppose, for "modernization".
The first drops fall, fat and warm, on my coat sleeve. I relish it as the pick up frequency. I want to dance. I want to sing. I want to thank and praise whatever greater power exists that they have sent me this wonderful, mind numbing rain to wash away the events of the past few hours.
But the Book is still in my hands and I realize it is most likely a priceless artifact as three drops fall onto its cover, permanently staining it. St. Denis Cathedral is within sight and so I sprint toward it, stopping only when I reach the side door. I take a deep breath and whisper the same prayer I always do, "Lord Almighty have mercy on my soul and protect us." Even though I no longer believe in God.
I head straight to the confessional and sit down. After a few moments' silence Father Louis, Father Guillarme's undersecretary, takes a seat on the other side of the screen. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned." It comes out as a whisper for I find that is all I'm capable of.
"Catherina." Father Louis says, calling me by the Christian name the Circle gave me. "Where have you been?" He adds brusquely. He's never much liked me.
"Does it matter?" I sigh.
"
