Zephyrus merely arches an eyebrow. “No?” He appears intrigued by this, amused even, though I do not understand why.Nois a complete sentence. “But you have not heard my request.”
Something about his presence fuels increasing alarm in me. His own brother wanted him dead. Why?
“You have been here too long,” I manage. “I must ask you to leave at once.”
The hallway echoes from another wave of departing novitiates. My eyes dart to the door. Zephyrus slides into my path, blocking my view of the exit. “You saved my life. I only ask that you hear my request and then decide.”
“Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”
“Oh, I think you’ll want to hear my offer.” He returns to the window. I have half a mind to yank him out of sight. Anyone peering up at the tower could spot him. “Haven’t you wondered why your abbess continually overlooks your accomplishments? Have you not questioned what mightguaranteeyour ascension?” Lowly, silkily, he murmurs, “Come with me, learn what it is you wish to know, and my debt to you will be repaid.”
Whatever I wish to say—No, Leave, Go away—the declaration fails to emerge. For I know this feeling. The unholy desire to reach and grasp, and catch something solid within one’s hand.
A decade I have studied. How many seasons will pass before I’m selected to take my final vows, if at all?
“How?” I whisper. “If I am to learn this information, what must I do?”
“We will pay a visit to Willow,” he says with burgeoning delight, “and you will have your answers.”
I lower my dagger slightly. Willow. I’ve never heard of this person. “Why do you want to help me? Why can’t you accept that I want no repayment and be done with it?”
A little notch crinkles his brow. “There is no such thing as goodness of heart. There’s always a catch.”
Not from me.
“Is there somewhere we can meet tomorrow evening?” Zephyrus asks.
“Tomorrow is the Holy Day. Our day of rest.”
“Then the day after.”
I am likely going to regret this, but any advantage will outweigh the risks. Serving the Father is all I have ever wanted in life. To be known, embraced, revered? Only my final vows will grant me such privilege. But more than this, I wish to be proven worthy of them. “There’s a forge south of the main complex. It is empty in the evenings.”
“Excellent.” Zephyrus braces a palm on the wooden sill. “Light a lamp in your window two nights hence. When you see an answering glow, head to the forge. I’ll meet you there.”
Leaping through the window, he vanishes into the night.
5
IARRIVE AT THE FORGEwhen the night is darkest, for the abbey sleeps, and I must return before the rising sun.
When I enter the shrouded, still-warm workshop, however, I find it deserted. Had I misunderstood Zephyrus’ instructions? The lamp hangs in my window, a mellow glow likely visible across the strait to the east, a small sun atop the tower to lead those at sea home.
Lingering smoke stings my nostrils as I pace the area, tugging on the cord cinching my waist. Zephyrus said he would be here. Yet I am alone.
As I consider my options, I spot a note nailed to the front door.
Brielle, meet me where the River Twee splits. I will await your arrival.
Irritation washes through me. Of course he informs me to meet him at the most inopportune time, and at the most inconvenient location. I consider returning to my room, forgetting this fool’s bargain. But the promise he’d given me: Willow. Whoever this person is, they hold the answer to my prayers.
With my dagger secured at my waist, I cross the outer grounds to the deserted gatehouse and make the treacherous journey down the mountain. My pulse thunders as I navigate the rocky trail on shaky legs. The moon is not as bright as I had hoped. It hides from me, and forces me through the dark.Do not stray from the path.Mother Mabel has hammered this warning into our very beings.
Last year, tragedy struck Thornbrook. Curious Madeline, a novitiate in her second year, went missing while roaming Carterhaugh after dark. Seven days later, we found her in a nearby glen, wandering in circles around a ring of mushrooms sprouting from the moist soil. The girl rambled about a strange man smelling of roses, whose face she could not remember.
The pregnancy progressed at an inhuman speed. Within a few short weeks, Madeline could no longer hide the enormous swell of her stomach. The transgression resulted in her dismissal from Thornbrook. We never heard from her again.
“I suppose they do not teach you to step lightly at this abbey of yours,” a musical voice drawls from somewhere in the dim.
