Free Misery's Child (The Cadian Chronicles) by J. B. Yandell

sorry.
They’re just so pretty. I’ve never had real copper buttons before.”
    “Of course you
haven’t. The cadia are the only women allowed buttons of metal. When you go to
Omana Teret, you’ll recognize the cadialana by their gold-crested buttons.”
    “The cadialana?
That’s the governing council?”
    “Yes.”
    “They are the ones
who will decide if I am to be chosen?”
    “Yes.” The corners
of her thin mouth turned down. This did not escape Lillitha’s notice. “Along
with the bene.”
    The older woman
always seemed to frown whenever the Omani priests were mentioned. Lillitha
sighed. She wondered if she would ever understand it all.
    “Will all the
other consecratia be dressed this way, too?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “I mean , will they all wear white, like me?”
    The question was
frivolous but Yanna nodded patiently. Her charge’s curiosity was only natural.
Her duty was to prepare the girl for the coming festival; the more Lillitha
knew, the less nervous she’d be. Sometimes, unexpectedly, Yanna caught a whiff
of fear coming off the girl so strong as to be a nearly tangible thing.
    “Because you are
still a novice and a virgin, your burlang is white. Were you not a virgin, you
would wear beige—”
    Yanna’s sharp ears
heard Lillitha’s barely audible intake of breath.
    “I do not mean the
consecratia, of course. But widows do come to us, as do some unmarried girls in
unfortunate circumstances. Don’t make such a face, Lillitha. Prudishness does
not suit a cadia. Our sisters seem to suffer more than our brothers do. It is
our duty to offer succor and aid.”
    Lillitha saw the
truth in the cadia’s words and was ashamed of her initial reaction, so lacking
in compassion.
    “When you are
initiated, you will wear the color of your branch. If Oman wills it and you are
chosen shallana breda , your burlang will be deep
green. Do you remember the significance of that color from your studies?”
    “Green symbolizes
the mother earth.” Lillitha smiled. Green was her favorite color.
    “And what color
does the shallan wear and why?”
    “Blue. It
symbolizes the water of Oman’s isle that brings life to the earth.”
    “Well, it seems
you have been reading something other than Gideon’s love poems.”
    Lillitha stopped
dead in her tracks and gaped after her teacher. Yanna did not break her stride
and she hurried to catch up.
    Yanna glanced down
at her and smiled, surprising Lillitha even more.
    “No, your mother
did not tell me. Neither did Edlin, so don’t look so betrayed.”
    “But how do you
know such things?” Lillitha couldn’t stop herself from asking. “You always seem
to know everything! Edlin says—” She bit her lip and looked away.
    “Edlin says what?”
    “Edlin says you
know magic. And I heard Tesla saying that all cadia are part witch.”
    Yanna rolled her
eyes to the skies and sighed. She motioned to a fallen tree lying near the
path.
    “Sit down a
moment, child. This is best discussed far from listening ears, since anything I
say is bound to be twisted into more old wives’ tales.”
    “The cadia do not
practice magic,” Yanna began as Lillitha sat down beside her. “True magic is an
abomination that seeks to bend Oman’s will to our own ends. What the cadia do practice is observation and
knowledge. Such skills often appear miraculous to the ignorant. That is why we
train ourselves to listen to the world around us, to notice everything and
everyone. The still, small voice of Oman whispers inside each of us, if only we
listen for it carefully. That is why we meditate. Why we practice stillness and
silence. Close your eyes and remember your lessons.”
    Lillitha did as
she was told.
    “Tell me what you
hear,” the woman asked after a long silence.
    The girl took a
deep breath, imagining that the air was cleansing water from a clear, cold
pool. She allowed the water to wash over her and through her, willing her mind
to utter blankness until she could hear the