The Timeseer's Gambit (The Faraday Files Book 2) by Kate McIntyre

the gathered priests and was regarding the old woman with a sort of respect. The closest she came to respect. Only the most stubborn minds refused to be baited by Olivia Faraday. “And who are you?” she asked.
    “Grandmother Eugenia, with the Church of Eadwyr and Healfdene’s Loving Embrace.” The Crone smiled. “I don’t really remember my family name. I’m sure you understand.”
    There was a twinkle in the woman’s eye. Chris suspected that she remembered it full well, especially since it would technically be shared by the even older man sitting beside her, her Elder who she’d married back when they were raised to Mother and Father. But she was on to Olivia’s game of using their surnames, and wouldn’t let her play.
    A smile fluttered around Olivia’s lips. “All right, Eugenia,” she said, tapping her foot. “Continue your explanation, please, though I
do
already know all of this.”
    “Not so well as you think, young one.” Grandmother Eugenia gave a gummy, toothless smile of her own. “You know as well as anyone that someone who finished categorization without a proficiency emerging is sent to the Church, correct?” At Olivia’s nod, the old woman echoed the motion. The jowls under her chin trembled as she did. Chris watched in horrified fascination. He’d never actually been around someone so old. His grandparents had passed in their seventies, and Fernand had worn his age so well… “I’m sure you’ve read that proficiencies are weaker every day. Haven’t you considered that there are also a wealth of young folks coming out of that room without a gift at all?”
    “Ahh,” Olivia breathed, and she shot Chris a look. He knew that look.
I hope you’re getting this down
. “You’re suffering a surplus.”
    “There’s at least a hundred young men and women waiting for placement with a holy family.” Grandmother Eugenia nodded. “And we Crones and Elders”―she patted her husband’s hand, and he nodded absently―“well, we’re not dying nearly fast enough to get them into the ranks.”
    “So the moment Miss Edison died,” Olivia finished, “Miss Daniels stepped into her shoes. Is that right?”
    Sister Penelope nodded. As did most of the room.
    Olivia looked around. “All right,” she said. “All of you who replaced one of the deceased, stand up.”
    Sister Penelope was the first to her feet. Her Youth clung to her hand despite their difference of height, and she patted him encouragingly. Another girl and a boy also stood. The girl was reedy, pinch-faced, and looked as if she’d been crying. She made the sign of the Three and Three the moment she reached her feet and looked straight ahead at nothing. The boy was the one who had been sitting closely with his Maiden. He was a tall, blond, handsome bloke, and looked more like an actor treading the boards as a romantic lead than a priest.
    “You can leave,” Olivia said, smiling with an edge and indicating the door. “I have no interest whatsoever in anything that you have to say!”
    The reedy girl nodded. “Very well,” she murmured. “I shall pray and assist Mother Greta with her duties.” She headed for the door as the handsome fellow leaned down and whispered something in his Maiden’s ear. She smiled and nodded, patting his hand as he made for the door.
    But Sister Penelope was held back by the orange-haired slip of a boy tugging at her hand. “Penny, please, don’t leave me,” he whimpered. Sister Penelope knelt to murmur into the boy’s ear. Reluctantly, slowly, he released her hand and sniffed. Sister Penny nodded and shot Olivia an accusatory look, which was ignored. Moments later, the door closed, all extraneous Youths and Maidens expelled from the gathering.
    Olivia consulted her newspapers as the clock on the wall ticked and the gathered holy families watched her apprehensively. “Timothy Lane,” she pronounced at long last. “The first to die. Could his family please identify themselves?” She gave