THE SUN CAME UP around 1100 Hours. It was dusky and warm, cool rays like honey on the cheeks.
"Finally, a proper Sabbath weather," said Ursula as she strode up a private stairwell, speaking to Delilah Manatee, the Governess she'd put up over her children. The Legata had just being dressed and she looked fine as a tall glass of water as she moved up the brownstone steps. Her candescent voice echoed mildly off this secret pathway as she discussed with the brown-haired governess:
"Delilah, ain't this just a miraculous turn in the air? After the silly affair with that mad-person in the Athenaeum levels, I thought for sure this Sabbath was lost—that we were gonna have to conduct the Rituals here in the Gray House without the presence of the Orishas. But the Martyr has blessed again this day for us. No frightening foe can ruin this for my kids. Speaking of, are they dressed?"