“I hardly know anymore.” Tears pricked my eyes, but I quickly sniffed them away and stood up. “But my petty worries are keeping you past your bedtime.”
Tuck rose beside me and plucked the cap from my head. “An old mandoesneed his sleep if he is to attend the Prince’s Tournament.” He helped me clear the last of the dishes from the table and take them to the kitchen, then I walked with him out to the visitors’ quarters, where travelers, pilgrims, and other friars were housed temporarily. It was separate from the main Abbey, and from the boatmen’s inn, built up against the western wall near the front gate, so it could be accessed from the outside. A few late summer fireflies accompanied us as we walked the gravel path between buildings.
“I see your oldest friends have not yet forsaken you,” Tuck said with a smile. I tried to smile back, but ever since that night in the Arden, the fireflies just reminded me of him—the Devil. The sight of them turned mystomach sour with fear, like he was somehow using their tiny lights to surveil me with his mismatched eyes.
“They are relentless companions,” I said with a forced laugh, brushing one of the bugs away when it landed on my arm. Outside the door to the visitors’ quarters, Tuck and I agreed to meet by the Abbey’s front gate in the morning, then I walked back across the grounds with the fireflies forming a train of sparks behind me.
Back in my room, which was still thick with Will’s scent, I locked the door and collapsed backwards onto my bed, closing my eyes. A tiny tickle on my thumb forced me to open them a moment later. One of the green moths that usually occupied the Abbey gardens had fluttered through the window and perched on my hand.
I brought the creature up to my face and smiled. “What shall I do, little friend? Do you have any secret, arcane knowledge of the future you might share with me?”
The moth took flight, bobbing across away until it landed on the worn, leather satchel hanging behind my bedroom door. Typically, I only used it when I went into the city to deliver spare medical supplies to patients, or shop for new supplies. But the moth gave me a sudden, ludicrous idea. I sat up, heart marching in my chest as I considered the absolute foolishness of it.
Tuck’s words echoed in my head.You have never been one to simply suffer the life others create for you. I have every confidence that you will continue to make your own path, and your own peace.
Maybe there was still a chance for Will and I to create our own path, and our own peace. It would create peace for the Abbey too, removing the target that Osric Scarlett had so clearly pinned onto my back. I stood up and walked over to the satchel, running my fingers along the strap and buckles.
“I don’t suppose you could carry a message to Will for me, could you?” I asked the moth, my face splitting into a broad grin.
Optimism and joy bubbled up in my chest as I packed. I did not need much, and did not own much anyway, so it only took ten minutes. The last thing I took out was my purse. It was a paltry amount, mostly copper pennies mixed in with five silver shillings and a single Queen’s crown—all slipped into my apron pockets by grateful patients. The Abbey provided everything I could need, so each year, I saved the precious coins to buy a Yule gift for Will, who was always bringing me pretty things from town when he could afford it. As I dropped the purse into my satchel, I prayed it would at least be enough to see us all the way to the coast, andonto a ship. Where we went after that would be up to the gods, I supposed, but at least we would be together.
Chapter four
Bridges & Scars
After a full nightspent dreaming of Will and of ships gliding across smooth seas, I woke up feeling like I was covered in sparks. Everything glowed a little brighter as I pulled on a clean dress and combed a small amount of oil through my hair, then placed the comb and oil into my satchel. When I picked up the dress I’d been wearing yesterday in order to pack that too, I remembered the Devil’s coin. I never took it to prayer services with me, since it felt wrong to take a magyk object into a holy space, but I usually checked it as soon as I was finished. Last night, I had been so spun up in my plans, I’d forgotten. Apprehension shot through me as I took it out, but I was relieved to see designs on both faces still. I let out a small laugh at the sight of a fire-breathing dragon on one side and a rather stupid-looking ass with crossed eyes on the other.
Admittedly, I had no idea what might happen to my bargain with the Devil if I left Nottingham, and I turned the coin over in my fingers for a few minutes as I considered the possibilities. Perhaps, if I was far enough away from the Arden, or if I left the coin behind, he would not be able to find me. Or perhaps he was tied to the Arden and could not go very far from it. Or perhaps, if he did come for me and I was already in the wind, my healing gift would simply…vanish. I certainly would not complain about being free from it. I pocketed the coin, imagining it could be worth something if our circumstances became dire enough.
Down in the dining hall, I could hardly eat, even though Sister Teodora had made one of my favorites: griddle cakes smothered in sweet pumpkin cream and amber honey, then dusted with clove powder. The optimism I’d been feeling had made way for nerves the moment I’d seen the faces of my Sisters. I had never left Nottingham, and only left Locksley’s grounds when it was necessary. Eventhough Tuck and the boatmen brought news and stories of the outside world, I had never seen it with my own eyes, never experienced it. Will too had only left Nottingham twice in his life, and had never wanted for anything. I hadn’t either, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was making a mistake, asking him to run with me, leaving behind his family and the Abbey and everything we’d ever known. But the strength of my conviction pushed me forward. We would have each other, and that would be enough. I was sure of it.
“Goodness, May,” said Tuck when I met him at the front gate. “You look like you’ve seen a spirit. Did you sleep at all?”
“Oh, yes, a little,” I said with a strained smile. He did not push the issue as we walked in silence along the towpath to Boatman’s Bridge. This crossing point was primarily used by those who lodged at the Abbey, mostly boatmen, and today the line for the tollbooth stretched from one side of the Channel to the other. The boatmen were boisterous, in good spirits, clearly looking forward to a day of festivities and drink, rather than their usual drudgery of running barges from one side of Athenium to the other. While I was normally grateful for their presence, since their coins kept the Abbey afloat, today I was wound much too tight for the sweet words they threw my way. I set my jaw as Tuck and I bypassed the toll line, exempt from payment by our affiliation with the Church.
“Miss May!” one young man called out. “Surely, you’d rather watch the tournament with us than with this old codger?” His friends shouted their lewd agreement and I glanced over my shoulder to see who it was. Nick Fagan, naturally. A regular at the Abbey’s inn, and the only man Will had ever come close to blows with for my sake. Before Tuck could offer a reprimand, I whirled around.
“Is that you, Fagan?” I called back, narrowing my eyes to an exaggerated squint. “I couldn’t tell. Every day you become more and more indistinguishable from the ass who pulls your barge.” A chorus of roaring laughter broke from the boatmen along the bridge, and Fagan’s cheeks reddened.
When I turned back to Tuck, he was battling a smile. “Sissi taught you well.”
“Would you deny your own hand in raising a girl who knows how to bite back?” I said sweetly. When we came to the small tollbooth at the other side of the bridge, Tuck simply nodded and stepped past, but the city watchman standing beside the booth flung his arm out to stop me.
“Let me pass!” I snapped, shoving him away. “The Sisters are exempt from bridge tolls.”
The loathsome toad of a tollman, Barnabas Weft, flashed a golden-toothed sneer. “You ain’t no Sister.”
“New orders from Sheriff Scarlett,” the watchman said stoically. “Only those who’ve taken the vows of a Holy Order are exempt.”
I nearly crumbled from shame and humiliation and began to reach for the purse hidden in my satchel, but Tuck stepped in quickly and dropped a copper penny into the toll box. “Not a problem, Barnie,” he said gently.
Weft just frowned, then scribbled down both our names. The watchman dropped his arm, but I glared at both of them, a sputtering flame of rage burning in my chest as Tuck and I made our way toward the city gates.
“Hemustbe trying to keep me and Will apart,” I fumed.
“Who?”
“Sheriff Scarlett!”
