“I hate having to do this.” Says Faey as she walks up the steps to the bell tower. Her soft footsteps against the dished stone stairs reverberate within the tower's black stone walls.

  “Why don’t they get some of the guards working here to do this?” Av?la fidgets with the earmuffs around her neck. “Let’s send the priestess to ring the massive bell on the hour—not an expertly trained, muscular Watchman of Our Lady [1].”

  The priestesses—no matter whose coven they are a part of—have very few actual duties outside of training to potentially replace their high priestess; the exception to this is ringing the temple bells on the hour.

  The two reach the top of the stairs and stop to catch their breath; Faey leans on the grand brass bell, her hand resting inside one of the large engraved moons, and Av?la stands doubled over with her hands on her knees.

  After gathering themselves, the two priestesses, with a few minutes to spare before they have to ring the bell, walk over to the edge of the tower and look out over the railing.

  The southern bridge to the college is crammed with people as far as the eye can see, the fae-lights strung between the lampposts casting them all in a warm glow—the last light of autumn, the last light of Morziwayn’s reign until late next year. From the vantage of the bell tower, the lights of the entertainment district glow like a burial fire, blocking out the buildings behind the orange light. The night winds drag the scent of the lake and the food stands below them up to the top, the crisp air blending the fresh scent of the water with the sweetness of warm pastries and beer. While neither wishes to admit it, the view was well worth the hike up to the top of the tower.

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  “We should get ready.” Faey steps away from the railing and makes her way back to the bell.

  Av?la follows behind.

  The two remove cotton wads from their pockets and stuff them into their ears and pull their earmuffs up from their necks and place them over their ears—the world goes quiet and each can only hear their own heartbeat.

  “Ready!” Faey yells. She takes the red and cream striped sally in her hands.

  Av?la looks at ?ppolonia and shakes her head, making a face as if saying, “Do you seriously think I can hear a word you’re saying?” and takes the sally just above ?ppolonia’s hands.

  Using all their might and body weight, they pull the rope back and begin ringing the large bell, teeth rattling with each ring.

  After twelve rings, they slowly stop and wipe their brows, waiting until the bell has gone silent and still before removing their ear protection.

  “Are you going to stay up here?” Dropping the earmuffs back around her neck, Faey puts the cotton wads back into the breast pocket of her blouse. She buttons her wool sweater up tight—it’s going to get cold.

  “Yes, are you?” Av?la makes her way back to the railing and looks down on Faerthryne, who stands on the balcony below them.

  Faey walks over and joins her, looking back across the skyline. “Of course.”

  Footnotes

  [1] A group of elite guards composed mostly of orphaned boys who have been trained since birth to defend establishments of the Order of the Three Moons, these being the City on the First Moon, the Temple of the Second Moon, and the College of the Third Moon. They are typically dressed in full black armor, which is ornately decorated with silver designs and decorated with a deep blue bases and a matching feathered plume. All are armed with halberds typically made of iron, with the exception of the Captains of Her Watch, whose are made of Ianian steel.