CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Snow covered the ground. It coated the branches of the trees in the garden, and obscured the shoots of the spring flowers beginning to poke through the hard ground. It was unusual for it to snow in the south of Grosmer at all, but never this late in the year. The spring equinox had passed.
Asphodel and Shimilla wrapped themselves in cloaks and crunched their way to the temple infirmary each day. During this unseasonable weather, the priests shivered as they passed from the infirmary to their quarters. They rushed through the gardens, looking like animated bundles of scarves, gloves, and cloaks, all scurrying to their destinations.
One day, the Great Mother called all the priests to the temple. She stood in the pulpit, huddled in a cloak and scarf.
“The annual meeting o
