“Please, Sephania is fine,” I answered. My hands fidgeted in front of me. My voice was lower than I’d meant to sound—less assured—only because everyone else in the room also spoke in quiet, reserved tones.
It seemed this was a place of worship of some kind. Everyone wore the same robes, the same colors. Humans mingled with grayskins, which shocked me because humans werenotallowed in Olhav, by and large, except as flesh slaves, broodstock, or workers at the silver mines.
“I am Keffa Caernyd,” the woman said, and then dipped her chin. “Welcome to the Hall of the Chained Sisters. I know it’s not much to look at.”
I blinked. Looking past the woman as she bowed, I stared at the huge painting across the room. “Thatis quite a lot to look at.”
Another small smile curled Keffa’s lip. “She is, is she not? One of our founders. An expert rendition, if I do say so myself.”
Skartovius chuckled. “You say that because you painted it, Keffa. Show some humility.”
The tired eyes of the Iron Sister sparked with intensity and mirth, showing life. Somehow, she managed to matchSkar’s arrogance—for just a split second—which I thought was impossible.
“Is anyone going to tell me what this is? What I’m doing here?” I asked.
Keffa led us through the room to the painting, where we stood under it and gazed up. Skartovius was to my right, Keffa to my left.
From this closeness, the large breasts on the fat painted woman felt like they were smothering me. It was an odd depiction to be centered in this hall filled with only girls and women.
“The Chained Sisters are allies, Sephania,” Skartovius said. “They seek a similar result as I do. Thus, we work together. You can speak freely here, among friends.”
“They’re part of yourcause?”
He nodded curtly. “Though it may not look it, there’s not a more loyal, stronger network among Olhav’s resistance forces than the Chained Sisters. Led by Iron Sister Keffa.”
“Why?” I asked abruptly, moving my gaze over to Keffa. “No offense, my lady, but you’re dressed in rags. Everyone here is. Skartovius is a nobleblood vampire, and more than half of the girls I’ve seen here are humans. How do these two disparate groups come together?”
“We share common enemies, Sephania.” Keffa kept her eyes on the painting, neck slightly craned. “The Chained Sisters are a group of maligned women of all sects and backgrounds. The bond that chains us together is our casting out from our respective societies.” She turned, splaying a hand out from her robe toward a table. “Female-born and female-made humans from Nuhav, vilified as interfolk or enslaved on the flesh trade.”
At the odd turn of phrase, I noticed two interfolk girls among the five at the table. They paid us no attention, deep in their studies.
“We are home to women sold as broodslaves in shadowgalas, who could not give birth to their vampiric lords. Interfolk miners who escaped captivity, seen as useless by everyone else or exiled by their faith. Dhampir spit out and trampled on by those who birthed them. This is only a small measure of our numbers.”
I blinked at her, astonished, unable to find the words to respond. A fire roared inside me. A calling, perhaps. It was something I could relate to—an entire flock of girls who had been born to similar circumstances as me, who had overcome their horrible situations by banding together.
My entire life, I had seen my situation and position as unique—tragic and novel—despite seeing so many guttergirls and sewerboys growing up. I thought I was special.
As it turned out,thishad existed all along. There was an entire organization housing the forgotten and damaged girls frombothcities.
Swallowing past a dry throat, I eked out in a low murmur, “Truehearts save me . . .”
Keffa chuckled. “You will find no believers of the True here. No Faithful or worshipers of the Damned.”
“You are not religious?”
Skar laughed. “Quite the opposite, love.”
Keffa gave him a knowing frown over my shoulder.
“It’s just that your garb,” I pointed out, “is very uniform. Reminds me of the vowagers from where I grew up, or the mute acolytes from Manor Marquin.”
“Outside the Hall, we blend in,” Keffa explained. “Inside, we are seen as our true selves: sisters chained together by our likeness rather than our differences. Uniformity, structure, knowledge—these are important tenets of our belief system.”
“Knowledge,” I breathed. “You seek knowledge. The one thing forbidden in Olhav.”
“Just so, madame.”
A small pause filled the space as we looked into each other’s eyes, away from the painting.
