As Xan ducked away to unstick the candle, Lonan heard a creak from the old table. He bit his cheek. He was sure the Acolytes saw past the space Xan had occupied to the child in the house. With their hoods raised against the cold, Lonan couldn’t tell where they were looking.
Xan popped back to his side and Lonan scooped the candles over the fire until the wicks caught. Fire blessed in the temple of Fiamma burned longer and more resiliently than any natural flame. It would stay alive even when Khione’s winds ripped off the coast.
“Thank you, Mistress Thompsett,” he said grudgingly.
“Even one ember is a beacon,” she said. If Audette hadn’t been occupied with the bowl, she probably would have patted his hand. She always did that, and called him a misunderstood young man. Lonan worried she would ask about the dropped child, but instead she turned to Xan.
–Elyan White, “Lost and Found”