Back at the cathedral, children laughed and ran through halls overhead while Amo stood near the huge doors and put on a new pair of leather gloves that Sgathaich had conjured. They felt so real, though Amo understood that they’d been woven from stories and song. Some hero had worn gloves like these gloves. They matched the sleek coat that Amo wore, so thin and proper, so defiantly warm against the snow. Amo wondered what story these garments had been born from. What hero had worn these? There was an emblem on the jacket’s sleeve, a curved triangle like a fang but with a serrated edge more like a saw. Some legendary spy, maybe? Wouldn’t that be appropriate? Amo smirked at the thought.
“Don’t forget why you’re doing this.” Sgathaich leaned over Amo from behind, so tall that she brushed the high ceiling. Sometimes she let Amo see her face without the coverings, but just then she was wrapped in thick white cloth. She had been out in the night, doing whatever the woman did in the evenings when she did not sleep. A woman of great magic and old mysteries by nature, though by choice just a simple orphan matron.
But she did have secret goals. Amo pivoted to look up at Sgathaich. The coverings on her face concealed her beak and her feathers, but not her eyes, deep with earnest worry. They’d argued about this: Amo cared so much about Pharaul and the goals of the mission, but Sgathaich hoped Amo would just learn whatever they could about the magic at work in Gray Watch and not risk themself for the mission that the spies, that people like Indirk, were willing to die for. And what was so important that it trumped protecting their home? Sgathaich wouldn’t say, not with any specificity that mattered.
At the moment, however, Sgathaich just seemed worried. So Amo said, “Don’t worry, mom. This isn’t my first mission. I’m good at this. I’ll be fine.”
“Gray Watch is a darker place than you know. Darker and more dangerous than anywhere you’ve ever been. Don’t get stuck there. Don’t let it eat at you.”
“I’ll stay close to the others,” Amo said. This seemed to make Sgathaich more worried, so Amo reassured, “They’re my friends. They’ll make sure I’m okay, the same way you would.”
Sgathaich shook her head. “Not like I would. No, not like I would. If you need to, you have my permission to use your magic. Just don’t let your friends find out about it.”
“That’s new.” Amo had never sought permission to use their own magic, small as it was. It was part of what made them a great spy. “I’ll be fine, really. Nobody’s sneakier than me. And I’ve got a hundred faces to choose from if I need them.”
Stepping around in front of Amo, Sgathaich crouched down so that her head was only slightly above Amo’s own. Her long arms bent, hands lifting to set long fingers on either side of Amo’s face. Sgathaich said, “Oh, my Bedlam-o-Amon,” and her voice deepened, growing heavy with magic, “You will be strong in Gray Watch. You will uncover its secrets. And you will live forever.”
Leaning slightly out of Sgathaich’s hands, Amo chuckled. That blessing seemed like a bit much, but they could already feel its power wrapping around them, and it was hard not to appreciate that.
