“I don’t really think that’s appropriate—” he started.
“Don’t be such a wet blanket, Peter.” Sheryl scoffed. “I’m sure Jane didn’t mean for all the commotion last time. Come along, dear. I take care of all the bookings for the church, anyway. I’ll find you a date. Can you look after Connor for us, dearie? We'll just pop out back.”
Without waiting for an answer, she shoved Connor into my arms. I couldn’t help but grin at his lipstick smeared face. “I’ll just wait here,” I said, staring up at the altar. “It’s so beautiful.”
My parents’ church in Arizona was nothing like this place. Ours was a huge, purpose-built square building, almost like a gymnasium or a live music venue. There was a lighting rig on the ceiling and a hardwood stage and a projector that took up an entire wall. I’d asked Dad once why it didn’t resemble the pictures of churches I saw in books, with their steeples and bell towers, and he’d said that they were trying to distance themselves from those medieval displays of wealth.
“Those churches were built to glorify man, not God,” he had told me in his soft way.
But as I looked at the elaborate carvings on the altar and the light reflecting through the stained glass windows, and the shiny silver goblets and implements waiting for the service, I saw the might and majesty that greeted a worshipper as soon as they entered this place. All of it was designed to leave you in awe, to channel your energy toward thinking about His word. Like the candles and stones in the ritual we performed in the early hours of the morning, none of these objects contained God, but they helped to focus the mind, channel the energy.
For the first time in my life, I wondered if I might actually understandreligion, just a tiny bit.
Now that’s a creepy thought.
My phone buzzed. Kelly’s face appeared on the screen.Oh no, I forgot to call her back.I looked up at the vicar, who pointed to a sign above the choir that read ‘Turn your phones off in the house of our LORD.’
Sighing, I darted to the back of the church, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Kelly, hey,” I shifted Connor to the other hand as I settled myself in the back pew.
“Why are you whispering?”
Hearing Kelly’s voice brought everything back – the horror of what happened to our parents, the fact that I’d never see them again, and that I’d never get to show them this beautiful church or discuss the meaning of all the different Church of England rituals. I’d been so caught up in Briarwood and learning about the guys and the fae and my mother and my powers, that I’d barely thought about the Crawfords since I’d broken down in Arthur’s arms.
Raw grief rushed over me, calling up all the dark thoughts I’d pushed aside. Kelly’s voice in my ear reminded me how far away from each other we were. My arms ached to hold her, to draw strength from her vivacious nature.
But she didn’t sound all that vivacious right now. Her voice croaked, and I knew without asking that she’d be crying. Guilt stabbed at me that I’d been off fighting fae and not thinking about my parents and then I couldn’t stop thinking about them. The flood of memories hammered against my skull, making my head swim and my stomach clench.
“I’m in a church,” I whispered, the grief stifling my voice.
“A church? I thought you’d never set foot in a one of those again, Miss Rational Humanist.”
“It’s a long story. I’m here for a friend. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just sitting here, missing Mom and Dad, and you, too.”
“I miss you, too.” I struggled to get the words out, my tongue weighed down by grief. “How’s life living with Uncle Bob and Aunt Florence?”
Silence.
I tapped my phone. “Kelly? Can you hear me?”
A pause. “Yeah…um…it’s okay, I guess. They were so nice to offer to be my guardians. They’re a lot stricter than Mom and Dad.”
“I remember that.“ We visited Bob and Florence a few times, but it always ended with Dad hurriedly bustling us into the car after I said something to annoy Uncle Bob. Considering Uncle Bob was annoyed by the fact Muslim Americans still got to vote and he wasn’t allowed to take his pistol into the movie theatre, I had a lot of ground to cover.
“Be glad you’re not here,” Kelly said, her voice surprisingly bright. “There’s a list of house rules a mile long and I have to spend half an hour every night in silent prayer and they took most of my clothes and books away, but it’s only a year until I can go to college or come stay with you, right?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I might have sold Briarwood by then.” That had always been my plan, but saying the words out loud made my chest squeeze tighter. I’d only been here a week and I was already getting attached. “Why did they take your clothes and books?”
“No books are allowed in the house that they haven’t approved. My books are too ‘secular.’ And my clothes weren’t modest enough. Aunt Florence went shopping for me. You should see the dress I’m wearing. Even the Puritans would have called it too stuffy.”
“How’s school?”
“Dumb, but I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to hear about the fabulous time you’re having in your castle with all those hot guys.”
Since when does Kelly not want to talk?
