“I am sorry,” she whispered. There was no reply. She glanced over her shoulder for a sign of the young jailor. But they were alone, the door shut behind her. “Does it… does it hurt?”
She cringed at her own question, but she could not think what to say. She felt sick, both at what had been done to Jeanne, and knowing she was to blame.
“Jeanne, listen. I am going to undo what I did. I will make it right. We can petition the king. We can explain that all the women on this island need you as their midwife. And that I was stupid… and a liar…”
Still Jeanne Roy’s eyes remained closed and Élisabeth felt the hope drain from her. Jeanne was barely alive. They needed magic now more than ever.
“Look,” Élisabeth opened her bag. “I brought you your doll. It will be able to help you—”
Jeanne Roy’s eyes flew open. “What have you done?” she croaked. She reached a bloodied hand out for the doll. “You risk everything by bringing it here.”
“I thought…” Élisabeth did not want to admit that she hoped the doll was a magical creature that could somehow save her. She knew Jeanne would mock her for her faith in witchcraft. Instead she swallowed and spoke in a small voice. “I thought it would bring you comfort.”
The witch struggled to sit up. “This doll is not for mycomfort. It is not atoy.” She grabbed it by its neck and brandished it at Élisabeth. “This is the sum of my life’s work.”
Élisabeth felt her cheeks burn. Once again, her ignorance had made her a fool. “I am sorry.”
The witch closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath. She winced at the effort. “You were not to know its value.”
Silence enveloped them and Élisabeth groped for something to say.
“I’m sorry for all that I have done,” she repeated. She could not think how to mend her mistake except by uttering the words, yet like a spell without magic it seemed to have no effect. Jeanne was already in her grave; she would not be able to save Marthe now.
“Do you see my boots?” Jeanne asked.
Élisabeth looked in the direction Jeanne pointed. There were two wooden boxes cast aside by the bench. She shook her head, not understanding her meaning.
“Brodequins,” Jeanne explained. “Made especially for me, or so he says. Do you know what I think of when he ties them to my ankles and strikes them with the hammer?”
Élisabeth shook her head again.
“I think of you.”
The shame rose from Élisabeth’s belly to her chest, then her cheeks, turningher flesh the colour of wine. “You must hate me,” she said in a voice she herself could barely hear.
“No. I hate myself.”
Élisabeth was startled by the witch’s words. She waited as Jeanne Roy gathered the strength to speak.
“Wari believes that if I had listened with more kindness to your concerns, you would not have accused me. All that I am suffering now is God’s punishment for my arrogance.”
Élisabeth reached out a tentative hand. When Jeanne did not recoil, she laid it on her arm. “I admit that I was hurt when you called me ignorant. But I… I did not listen when you offered me a cure.”
Jeanne looked down at Élisabeth’s hand. Perhaps it caused her pain. Outside she heard the young jailor greet a passerby.
“I should not have called you ignorant,” Jeanne whispered. “I am sorry too.”
Élisabeth swallowed. The apology was a salve to her soul. She drew her hand back and smiled shyly at Jeanne.
“Wari told me a little about your past. She said your tutor accused you on the pretence of stealing his knowledge.” She paused, remembering what Wari had said.As if knowledge is something that can be owned by one man alone.“I am sorry you were so wronged.”
“But I did steal his knowledge. That is what made him so angry.”
Élisabeth sat upright. “You did?”
Jeanne Roy grimaced, then flinched, as if the movement caused her pain. She touched her fingers to her broken lip. “Yes, I stole Chamberlen’s Secret. I will tell you the tale. I should have told everyone about it, the moment it was in my hands. The great tragedy is that it is a secret at all.”
Élisabeth caught her breath. She felt as if she were back at the Roche d’Oëtre, teetering on the edge of the cliff, the whole world at her feet. She waited for the witch to speak.
