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Milly, maker of mead and any threads of joy left in this saintsforsaken place. “D’ya have a minute, Sephie?” Milly asked. Her voice and expression were frantic.

Seph glanced about, nodded, then ducked beneath the small awning and stepped inside, out of the rain. Milly closed the door behind her.

“The baron asked me to deliver four barrels, and I just?—”

“Four barrels?” Seph stammered. Milly’s husband had started their mead business, but the war had taken him too, so Milly kept it limping along as best she could.

“Mm.”

Seph eyed Milly. “And is he paying for them?”

Milly smiled, all lip.

“Mills…”

“What was I to say? No?” Milly defended. “And anyway, I get a little sum, which should help, and maybe even more if the high lord likes it.”

Seph cocked a brow at her.

“I just need help getting them onto the cart,” Milly continued, batting her hand as if to slap away the truth of it. “Bors is out helping to repair the roof over the baron’s guest lodgings, and he says it’s urgent?—”

“Milly.” Seph grabbed the woman’s frenzied hand. “I’ll help.”

Milly sighed in relief and her shoulders relaxed. Seph released her hand as she glanced around the storage closet. These shelves used to be stuffed with barrels, though they were mostly stuffed with dust now. Seph noted the three wooden figurines upon the little shelf above the lintel. The first was featureless except for lips, the second except for eyes, and the last possessed only ears. They represented the kith goddesses of Fate, though many mortals worshipped them too, hoping to increase prosperity by paying alms to both mortal and kith gods. Seph’s grandfather had always worshipped the Fates, and while Seph believed they existed, she did not love the idea of worshipping gods who’d done nothing but torment mortal kind. For Seph’s part, she stuck to Ava and her saints, just like her nani had done.

“Which barrels?” Seph asked.

“Just through there. Under the bench. They’ll be the red oak with the black rings.” Milly nodded toward the doorway to the main entry, where she used to serve dozens of Harran’s weary.

Now,allof Harran was weary, but no one could afford to drown it in ale. No one but the baron.

It took Seph and Milly nearly an hour to complete the task, and they were both soaked to the bone by the end of it. Once they finished, Milly grabbed a small ampoule off of a high shelf and pushed it at Seph.

Seph shook her head. “You don’t need to?—”

“Take it,” Milly insisted, forcing Seph’s frigid fingers around it. “Put it in some broth for Nora. It’ll soothe that cough of hers.”

Seph hesitated, but Milly wouldn’t yield, so Seph slipped the bottle inside of her coat. She was just leaving when Milly added, “I had a dream a few weeks past.”

Seph stopped.

Milly was the only person in Harran, aside from Seph’s own family, who knew about Seph’s ability. That she was saints-touched. It was Levi who’d let it slip after Seph interpreted one of his dreams and ended up saving Rys’s life. In his enthusiasm, Levi had accidentally told the tavern keeper.

Thankfully, Milly was a vault, and she’d never once let on that she knew—not even to Seph. It was Levi who’d confessed.

This was the first time Milly ever confirmed it.

Seph glanced over her shoulder.

Milly dug the tip of a boot in the floor, wringing her apron between her hands. “I’ve had it three times, and I wasn’t sure if I should say—I don’t want you feeling obliged, that is—but I can’t shake it, and I can’t help but feeling like it’s something that I should tell you.”

Seph swallowed and faced the woman. She hadn’t seen Milly this rattled since her husband passed. “It’s all right, Mills…go on.”

“Well.” Milly’s gaze jumped to the door behind Seph, like she was making sure it was closed and no one was listening. “How much should I say?”

“Every detail that you can remember.”

Milly nodded, her brow furrowing. “It starts with me walking Harran’s streets. The streets are empty, and there’s a dusting of snow over everything. I turn the corner by Jondus’s old pasture, you know…” She paused to see that Seph was tracking, and Seph nodded encouragingly, so Milly continued, “There are cows in the field, like there were before the war.”