Tori hit the street the following morning. On the third day the Pringles put a HELP WANTED sign in the window of their delicatessen. The shop always smelled delicious and that day was no exception as everyone prepared for the Crane Boat Festival. The Parkers had a particular boat they beribboned every year. It was shaped like a crane, fox red, with the name Perpetua painted in gold letters down its neck.

Every August they would pack a seafood lunch and watch the boats race on Doctors Lake Inlet.It was Mrs. Parker's favorite holiday. She used to laugh along with her husband as they watched Tori and Abital scream with joy as their ribbons went waving by on the water.

Tori looked around at the prepared food as she waited for one of the Pringles to be free to assist her. When Mrs. Pringle finished with her customer, she approached the counter.

"Tori," Mrs. Pringle said. "You look pretty today. Do you have a special fellow taking you to the boat races?"

"No, ma'am," Tori laughed. "I'm here about the sign in your window."

Mrs. Pringle stuck out her bottom lip. "I'm sorry.My husband hired a boy this morning. Are you still taking ballet?"She never forgot to ask Tori this.

"No, ma'am,"Tori said, as a customer came in out of the rain.

"Aw, that's too bad. Well I'll keep you in mind if I hear of anything.Mansa Augustus should at least have given y'all a chance to find work before he closed the fields."

"You're looking in the wrong place for mercy," Mr. Pringle said as he waddled out the storeroom. "You know what they say is under that mask and veils? Some evil spirit."

Mrs. Pringle sucked her teeth. "Never mind him. Tis nothing but the musings of an old man. Everyone knows Augustus can't have his skin exposed."

"It's a corpse under all that," the customer said. "A corpse with no face or soul at all, and that's why the state is in chaos. The reaper made himself king over us."

Mr. Pringle nodded. "You know what I say? Knife an Augustus Victrova wherever he's at."

"Save your gallantry for Old Dixie Fellowship," the customer said. "They're the ones trying to take over the government. The parliament isn't even cold, and Hank Trappe has already entered the Capitol."

"Listen at you two," Mrs. Pringle said. "If you want to fear something you best fear those dagger men not the mansa or The Georgia and their good old allies."

Unlike Dade and Citrus, Flagler County had never seen the Sicarii. This didn't stop people fearing they would come. One year they closed down a bridge and forced citizens to jump into the wintery waters.

With the rain let up, Tori left the store to cash her paystub at the bank. She had meant to do it first thing but the sign in the window had distracted her

When she reached the Bank of Chicory, she closed her umbrella,leaving it outside by the door. Glad to see only one person in the queue, she reached into her pocket for her paystub but found emptiness. Promptly she checked the other only to find it the same. Her heart two stepped as she tried to remember the last place she had it but the more she thought the more she realized she didn't remember having it that morning. Usually, she put it on the table by the door on payday, but had she? She pushed her hair back, trying to think but her mind was in a pirouette.

"Next!"

The man's voice made her skin prickle and her eyes burn. She was at a loss. "Next!"

She knew the manager gave her the paystub but then she was distracted when she filled out the clipboard. She spun on her heels and ran out the bank door. Water drenched her stockings as she splashed through puddles. It was raining again. Raining, and she'd forgotten the umbrella. Her mother would be cross if she didn't find the money. She was cross with herself.

Chicory fell in the distance as she ran out of paved road. Mud speckled her stockings and caked her shoes. Though she took the walk to the fields nearly every day it suddenly seemed longer to run there. When she finally reached the big brass gates her heart lightened. They were open. Running up the driveway, she entered the open door of the office, emancipated from the rain.

The junk that once crowded the office was cleared and instead of the sun burnt manager, a man with russet skin stood at the desk, so engrossed with an uprooted plant that he hadn't noticed her come in. A light thumping made her look down at the puddle she was forming on the floor.

The man stopped examining the plant to check his pocket watch and startled when he saw her in the doorway. "Did you need help, miss?"

Tori stepped forward. "I used to work here, I... left my paystub. I..." she searched the floor then turned and met his green eyes.She was then distracted by a quarter-size birthmark at the corner of his mouth. She watched him study her, aware of the mess she was.

"What is your name?"

"Victoria Parker."

His brows went up. "You're Miss Parker?" He opened a satchel on the desk and pulled out an envelope. "I thought to bring it by your house. I'm sorry you had to trouble yourself."

Tori had to do everything in her power not to snatch the envelope. "Thank you so much." She took the envelope. "You don't... Thank you Mr..."

"Soren Usher."

Rocked by a wave of embarrassment, Tori's knees wobbled as she curtseyed. She felt twice the fool. Soren Usher was the mansa's beloved cousin and highly respected. "Forgive me, Noble Duke Usher. I didn't recognize you."

Soren laughed. "If you must be formal, overseer will do." He gestured for her to sit."Actually, I am glad to meet you. You were the only one who filled out the form; your handwriting is quite remarkable." He sat. "Did you have training?"

Tori adjusted herself in the hard chair. "Only from my father."

Soren picked up his pocket watch from the desk. Flip click, flip click it opened and closed."What about him? Did he study on the three great continents?"

"No, sir."

"Ah. Have you ever considered attending Hopewell Factory?"

Tori fiddled with the smocking of her blouse. "My mother says it's not for colored girls."

Soren's brows went up. "Not for colored girls? My family is colored. We established Hopewell Factory..." He dropped the subject when she became embarrassed.

"Hydrangea celebrabis is a privilege to cultivate." He nodded to the plant. "I'm sorry you were terminated."

"Mansa Augustus must've had his reasons," Tori said. "I'm not angry. My father used to work for him. He said they make the mansa a scapegoat more often than not."

"What's your father's name?"

"Calvin Parker."

"I'm afraid I don't know him. What do you think of the dynast yourself, Miss Parker?"

The way he said her name made her stomach grow warm."Please, call me Tori. I can't hate him. I don't know who he truly is."

"Perhaps some of your father's integrity passed down to you."

"I would wish so." She looked down at her wet clothes wishing his dignity had too.

Soren closed his pocket watch tight. "I have a small request." He opened his satchel and took out a blank paper and ink pen then placed them before her. "Please, write something for me."

Tori's pulse quickened as she stared at the items, wondering what game he was at.

"Are you familiar with Galatians?"

Picking up the pen, Tori nodded nervously.

"Record for me the fruitages of the spirit. Begin."

Tori touched the pen to the paper, releasing the first spot of ink. LOVE pirouetted out bold, black, as enchanting as Odette on the lake followed by JOY, leaping like Giselle and PEACE, extending its lines like Aurora.

Soren never took his eyes off her hands until she finished with FAITH and leaned back in the chair. He took the paper and examined each word before tucking it aside."Well, it seems you're a young woman who has taken on a big responsibility. I would like to help you." He took a slip of paper and quickly scrawled out his name and a date.

Tori watched him then took the paper when it was handed to her.

"I'll visit you in the future.I believe there is use for your talent."

Tori's mouth trembled. "I'm lost for words. Your citizen thanks you."

Soren rose from his seat and shook her hand. "It was a pleasure, Tori."

She smiled, but there was still one problem...Mama.