Red Hood's Revenge

black-crusted bread. Several bunches of grapes sat nested between the loaves. On the back of the tray were two clay jugs, warm goat milk in one and beer in the other.
    Snow sniffed the jugs. “Beer for breakfast?”
    Talia grinned. “Welcome to Arathea.”
    Roudette snatched the beer and drank several huge gulps directly from the jug, following it with a huge bite of bread. “This bread tastes like gravel. Isn’t there any meat in this place?”
    Talia grabbed a handful of grapes, her mouth already watering. The sour taste made her smile. Lorindar’s grapes were too sweet. She helped herself to the milk next. Warm and thick, with a sweet aftertaste. It was far too long since she had eaten a proper breakfast.
    “Snow, are you strong enough for spellcasting?” she asked. Snow’s illusions had vanished after the fight with the hunter. “Foreigners are rare this deep in Arathea.”
    Still chewing, Snow gestured with one hand, restoring her disguises to Danielle and herself. “What about Roudette?”
    “Her skin is light, but she might pass for a northerner.” Talia circled Roudette. “That blonde hair will draw attention before we’re two steps out of the temple, and the cape has to go. Only the fairy folk wear such vivid colors.”
    “I wear this cape until the day I die,” Roudette said.
    Snow wrinkled her nose. “That would explain the smell. I didn’t want to say anything, but—”
    “Wait here.” Talia jogged through the hallway to the kitchen. She squeezed past two young girls who were busy packing food. Ignoring their protests, Talia snatched a pot and filled it with water from the cistern. She crushed several handfuls of tea leaves into the water and returned to the room.
    By now, Snow and Danielle had changed clothes, donning the plain shifts and capes Talia had brought. The sleeveless shifts would have been unseemly back home. Though the material covered both women from throat to ankle, the thin white linen left little to the imagination. Danielle was already buttoning her cape. The material was a dark green, almost brown in color. Large horn buttons ran from neck to waist, providing a bit of modesty.
    “I want clothes like yours,” Snow complained.
    Talia snorted. “Servant’s garb is the closest thing to invisibility you have. Unless you can lose your accent and change the way you move? You stand too far from people, and you look away too quickly. Even with your illusions, it wouldn’t take long for someone to notice there’s something not quite right about you.”
    Danielle smiled. “I notice that about her too.”
    Snow threw a grape at her.
    “Fix your hair,” Talia said. “You’ll want it braided or knotted back, unless you want to be mistaken for prostitutes. Keep the sheffeyah wrapped about your faces. Your skin might be the right color, but your features might give you away.” She set the tea on the floor. “Snow, can you heat that for me?”
    “Beer and milk weren’t enough?” Snow adjusted her choker. Sunlight shone from one of the mirrors. Moments later, the water began to boil, and the smell of tea filled the room.
    Talia shoved the pot at Roudette. “The tea should darken your hair enough to let you pass for Arathean.” That left only the cape. Fortunately, the temple had just the thing to go with it.
     
    The sun was rising as Danielle and the others made their way through the temple. Roudette followed a short distance behind, wearing an all-encompassing robe Talia called a hiqab.
    The robe was a filthy tan thing of camel hair. According to Talia, the hiqab marked Roudette as a leper. It had no sleeves, fitting over Roudette like an oversized sack with only a single ragged hole for her head. A deep hood hid her face, and the lack of sleeves prevented her from touching anyone, not that anyone approached that closely. Even the sisters moved to the side as Roudette passed.
    Mother Khardija stopped them at the main entrance. She kissed Talia’s forehead, then pressed a beaded purse into her hands. Snow translated her words for Danielle. “The church will expect a donation.”
    “I can’t take this.” Talia tried to give the purse back, but Khardija refused. Talia lowered her voice. “Even if the Wild Hunt spares the temple, you’ll need every scrap of gold to help those who were hurt in last night’s attack.”
    “I know you.” A smile eased Khardija’s words. “If I give you this, you’ll use it well. If I don’t, you’ll simply take what you