Page 1 of Acedia

Chapter 1

The heating was playing up again.

That happened sometimes, though it seemed especially unlucky that it was happening on Christmas.

“Chin up, Iris,” Nana said sternly. “Are you not grateful for this delicious dinner?”

“I’m very grateful, Nana,” I replied immediately, straightening up and silently instructing myself to stop shivering.

The dinner was a little chilly too, but it always took a little while to make its way up from the dining table downstairs where my parents and twin brothers ate to the attic where Nana and I lived.

“Have you tried the turkey? It’s very good, Iris. Even better than last year’s.”

My fingers twitched, wanting to touch the food on the plate so I could build a picture in my mind of what I had and where it was, but Nana hated when I did that. Blindness was not an excuse for poor etiquette, as she always reminded me. Instead, I gingerly moved my knife and fork around the plate, softly prodding and poking until I found something that felt like meat.

I couldn’t reply for a long moment as I made my way through the small bite I had taken. It had a much chalkier texture than I expected, but perhaps that was normal.

“How is it?” Nana asked, a sharp edge to her voice that dared me to complain.

“Delicious,” I rasped, immediately grabbing my glass of water to wash it down as I struggled to swallow it.

“Yes, it is,” she said firmly. “Eat the rest of your food, Iris. Then straight to bed.”

“Yes, Nana.”

“We have much to be grateful for this year,” she mumbled. Her utensils chittered faintly against the ceramic plate—they always did, her hands were increasingly shaky with age. But it was worse than usual tonight. She was shivering more than I was.

“Perhaps I could ask Clara to bring up that little space heater we used last time?” I suggested tentatively, not wanting to anger Nana by complaining but also not wanting her joints to ache from the cold.

“What on earth for?” she snapped. “Clara doesn’t want to spend her Christmas hauling appliances around the house.”

“Of course,” I replied quickly. “I’m sorry, Nana. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She tutted. “No, you shouldn’t have. You were thinking of yourself, Iris. Thinking of what might makeyouhappy and not at all thinking about poor Clara and the inconvenience it would cause her.”

I’d been thinking of Nana, but it would only upset her more if I pointed that out, so I forced another cold potato into my mouth instead. Clara had worked with our family for years—she was a Hunter who’d sustained an injury bad enough that she wasn’t able to hunt any longer, and had been assigned to domestic duties here instead. There had been a helper like that before her too—Margaret—who’d worked for our family until she died, and she’d been much friendlier.

I shook off the disrespectful thought. Clara hadn’t wanted to be here, and from what I understood, knowing about my existence put severe limitations on her life. I should be more grateful.

Be grateful, be grateful, be grateful.

“I worry, you know,” Nana sighed heavily. “You’re getting more difficult each year. More opinionated. Sometimes, I think you don’t even care about being kind anymore. You used to be so good at remembering that it was the most important thing you could be.”

I nodded, immediately contrite. Kindness was free. Kindness was unlimited. Kindness required nothing but my own effort.

“I won’t be around forever,” Nana continued. “You’re going to have to prove to your mother that you’re not a burden. That you shouldn’t be sent away to one of those awful places—you don’t want to go there, Iris. They’ll do awful things to you there. And there’s no one else who can watch you once I’m gone. Certainly, no one would expect your brothers to undertake such an onerous task.”

I bowed my head over my plate, letting my hair fall around my face like a curtain as I blinked back tears. I didn’t like thinking about my future. Nana was the only person who’d ever cared for me. I’d be all alone in the world once she was gone, and I had no idea how Moriah and Giles would respond.

I didn’t want to go to one of the group homes where the other broken Hunters went. I was so fortunate that I hadn’t been sent there already. Moriah had been very generous in letting me stay.

Tilly whined at my feet, leaning heavily against my legs. It was probably only her body warmth that was stopping me from shivering more. She was my guide dog in more ways than one. Tilly was my eyes, my heart, and my best friend. Nana had gotten her for me three years ago, and the fight between her and my mother had been so bad that I couldn’t even think of it without my hands trembling.

“Oh, don’t cry now, my Iris,” Nana grumbled, hating displays of emotion. “There’s no need to cry. You just have to do the right thing. Put your best foot forward. Don’t make life difficult for your mother; I’m sure she’ll let you stay in the attic alone. You’re more than capable, so long as Clara helps out now and again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes. Of course,” I agreed in a raspy voice. It would be the height of ingratitude not to, even if the idea of spending the rest of my days in these few rooms was…

Well, a little disheartening.

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