Red Hood's Revenge

the distant figure crossing the lake. The sun was setting, and Talia was little more than a shadow. Snow tapped her choker. “I lost track of her when she passed into the city, but that’s her.”
    “I hope she’s brought food,” Roudette said.
    Talia was dressed in a black robe. A matching scarf covered her head and face, exposing only a narrow stripe of skin and eyes. She carried a rolled bundle over one shoulder. She glanced about as she hurried through the field, but most of the workers had already retired for the night.
    “You look bleak,” Snow said, studying Talia’s robe.
    “All of the sisters wear black.” Talia tugged her scarf down past her chin. “Anyone may join the temple, rich or poor. No matter what clothes you wear when you take your vows, it’s simple enough to dye them black.”
    Snow made a face. “Black makes me look too pale.”
    “You’re not going to be sisters.” Talia grinned and tossed the bundle to Snow. “You’re farmhands. Poor, injured farmhands.”
    Snow pulled out a loose tunic with long sleeves. A wide scarf followed. “Magic would be easier.”
    “Have you ever seen Arathean peasant wear?” Talia grabbed a second tunic and held it to the moonlight. “Could you mimic the red and yellow tribal patterns on the collar? The goat horn buttons? Don’t forget the linen undertunic. Get one detail wrong and you could find yourself hauled before the raikh.”
    “The raikh?” Danielle asked.
    “The city ruler.” Snow held the clothes to her body. They were heavier than she had expected. “The equivalent of a lord back home.”
    “The raikh of Jahrasima is named Rajil.” Talia spat the name. “A devout worshiper of the fairies, and a spoiled brat. She’s ruled Jahrasima for more than ten years. Her family backed Lakhim’s claim to the throne, and Lakhim gave her Jahrasima in exchange for that support. If it were up to Rajil, all of Arathea would follow church law above all else.”
    “So be careful, witch,” said Roudette. “Siqlah law is unforgiving of those who practice human magic.”
    Danielle was already changing into the disguise Talia had brought. She glanced at Snow “Siqlah?”
    “The law of God, set forth by the fairy church,” said Snow. “Legally, the church holds only advisory powers, but these days the distinction is a thin one. Human law, enforced by Queen Lakhim, is called Siqkhab. The fairies are bound to a ‘higher’ law, known as Siqjab.”
    Danielle held up one of the head scarves. “Even wearing these, anyone who looks closely enough will see we’re not Arathean.”
    “I can take care of that,” said Snow. “An illusion to darken the skin and eyes.”
    Roudette sniffed as she picked up one of the scarves. “My cape won’t allow your illusions.”
    “I assumed as much,” said Talia, grabbing a handful of long rags. “You were all injured tonight. I’m taking you back to the temple for healing. Roudette, your face was mauled.” She tossed the rags to Roudette. “Let me know if you need any assistance making it believable.”
    Roudette touched her cheek where Talia’s knife had cut her. The wound still oozed blood. She spat, but began wrapping the rags around her face.
    “Don’t do that again,” Talia said without looking up. “Obscenity won’t help you blend in here.”
    “Obscenity?” Danielle asked.
    Snow pretended to spit. “Wasting the body’s water.” To Talia, she asked, “Where is this place you’re taking us?”
    “The Temple of the Hedge.” Talia jabbed a finger at the clothes in Snow’s hands. “Assuming you ever get ready.”
    Snow stuck out her tongue, then stepped away to change. When she returned, Talia was helping Danielle to adjust her head scarf.
    Snow whispered a quick spell, and Danielle’s skin darkened to match Talia’s own. Danielle’s hair turned a shining black, even as Talia twisted the hair into a knot and pulled it into the scarf.
    “Does everyone wear these things?” Danielle asked.
    “In the city, most people use the sheffeyah as a hood, keeping the faces exposed.” Talia tugged the scarf tight over Danielle’s nose and mouth. “The more ardent followers of Siqlah also cover their faces as a sign of modesty before God. In the old days, they were used to keep the sand out of your ears, mouth, and nose.”
    “It smells like old sweat,” Snow complained.
    Talia yanked the scarf from her hands and pulled it taut like a garrote. “Either you wrap this around your neck or