In Mercy, Rain (Wayward Children, #7.5)

by Seanan McGuire

Alexis Chopper had always been beautiful. It was one of the first facts she had come to know about herself, as she grew old enough to understand that she was a person distinct from her parents; her beauty informed everything she did and everything she was. Her body was large and plentiful, a feast of a girl. Her hair was lush and her smile was welcoming. She had spent enough time with her family’s flock to have acquired some of a shepherd’s resistance to scarring disease, and so her face was fair and fine. And for all of that, which might have been enough to curdle a less generous heart, she was also kind. Her kindness was as intrinsic to her as her loveliness, if not more so, for beauty can be spoilt, can change with the times, but kindness is eternal. She could tell that she’d done something wrong, that her death had upset two people she didn’t know, who helped to maintain the balance that kept her and her family safe. Slowly, she slid down from the slab, wrapping the sheet around herself in a loose gown and tying it at the waist for modesty’s sake, and then began to ascend the stairs, following after Jack.