Jai was unresponsive through it all. She did not speak and only moved if I pushed or pulled her along with me. I had to dry her hair and help her get dressed. As I was pulling her towards Dawn Steps on our way to Hearth House to eat, she stopped in the middle of the central courtyard and looked in the direction of the sea. We could not actually see it over the wall from where we stood, but we could hear the surf sputter and hiss against the rocks on the beach. The wind was still brisk and cold.
“They are still here,” she whispered. I had to lean forward to hear her words before the wind snapped them up. “I can feel it. They are out there somewhere. He’ll never give up, Maresi. Honour and pride are all he has. Without them he is nothing. He will do anything to get me back, and to punish me.”
She did not cry. She did not scream. But her resignation worried me more than her fear.
“But do you not see that the Abbey protects you?” I said softly. “You did not come to harm today and you never will.”
She turned and looked at me for the first time since she had seen the ship.
“He will not give up. He will be back.”
WE SPENT THE WHOLE OF THE NEXT day clearing up after the storm. Dislodged roof tiles needed to be replaced, the yards were full of rubbish and a tree had fallen across the mountain path and had to be sawn up and transported away. Large chunks of rock had tumbled down the mountainsides and ripped away a part of the wall where the drop to the sea is at its steepest. Sister Nar walked around grumbling about all the destruction to Knowledge Garden and Sister Mareane’s forehead was wrinkled with deep worry lines. Even our orchards had been damaged by the storm.
Jai, Ennike and I were assigned to help Sister Veerk and Luan clean up the beach. We found some remains of the pier and storehouse, the rest had been swept away by the sea. Sister Veerk made diligent notes about everything we needed to replace. Soon our arms and backs ached from hauling heavy wet logs and planks farther up the beach, safe from the ocean’s ravenous waves. There was still a strong wind blowing which made our hair dance before our eyes and stick in the corners of our mouths when we spoke. I looked at Jai’s fair hair, at Ennike’s and Luan’s brown hair and at Sister Veerk’s black hair, all flowing free under their headscarves. So much hidden power.
Ennike and I were dragging a dark, age-cracked log out of the water. I looked over at Jai who was standing up to her middle in the cold sea next to Sister Veerk and Luan, heaving up stones which had rolled down and blocked the harbour. She groaned and screwed up her face with the strain. When a large rock required particular effort she roared loudly. Then she rested her hands on the rock, bowed her head and panted for a brief moment before poking Luan in the side to continue with the next stone together. Sister Veerk said something to her that I could not hear. I saw Jai hiss an answer.
Jai had not retreated into her shell this time. She had got angry.
We walked together up the narrow staircase to the Abbey. I showed her some pieces of smooth grey driftwood I had collected from the beach. She scowled at them and turned away from me.
“Nobody is listening,” she said and started up the steps with long, angry stomps. “Everyone is running around worrying about the pier and the fruit trees.” She spat out the words. “And you!” She turned around so fast I bumped into her. Her hair was flailing in the wind and her eyes were black. I took a step back. “You know. No one else knows except you and Mother and probably a couple of the sisters. You know what happened to Unai. You know what Father wants. Do you think anyone will be spared when he really comes for us? Do you think he will be satisfied with taking only me? He will have his revenge on everyone who sheltered me. Everyone. And you go around collecting driftwood.”
She spun around and marched up the steps without looking back. I stayed where I was and swallowed hard. What did she want from me? If she had asked me to do something, I would have done it without question. But I did not know how I could help her if she insisted on blaming me.
* * *
We did nothing but clean up all that day and all the next. There were no lessons and we ate in Hearth House whenever we had time between tasks. Jai did not talk to me. She avoided me. She was acting differently, sharp and prickly like a thistle, and I did not know how to react to her snorts and scowls. She made sure we did not have the same duties, and on the second day I barely saw her at all. At first my heart ached for her. She was scared and I understood that. But why was she only angry with me? She had no reason to punish me!
I spent all afternoon carrying freshly sawn wood from the mountain path down to the woodshed by Hearth House. When evening came my hands were shaking from the strain, my arms ached and I barely made it to Hearth House to get some food.
Jai sat at one of the long tables talking to Cissil and Joem. I know she saw me but she avoided eye contact. They sat huddled together in an intense private conversation.
I took a cup of water and filled my plate with bread, cheese and pickled onion from the serving table. I looked over at Jai and realized I did not know where to sit. She was still acting as if I did not exist. I walked slowly past her and sat a little farther away at the same table. None of them looked at me or let me join in the conversation. I stared out of the window on the west wall and tried to act as if I had chosen to sit alone, chewing on my bread as quickly as I could. I did not want Jai or Joem to see that I was upset.
When I had finished eating I got up and tried to catch Jai’s eye. She turned towards Joem and said something that made her nod emphatically. I stared straight ahead as I walked out of Hearth House with my lips pressed tightly together. I had been fine without Jai before she came to the Abbey, so I could be fine without her again.
That evening I had to go to the treasure chamber alone and that evening I wished for company more than ever. Sister O was not in her room when I knocked but she had given me permission to take the key in her absence, so I lifted it down and took it across the Temple yard to Knowledge House in the fading evening light. Fear gripped me as soon as I opened the door. I wished I had Jai by my side.
I walked stiffly down the corridor. I was approaching the door to the crypt. It was the first time I had had to walk past it alone since the Crone spoke to me. I clutched the key hard, as some sort of protection, as a dagger. As I neared the door I started to run, quickly and quietly and though I did not hear the Crone, I knew she was there behind it. Biding her time.
When the doors to the treasure chamber were shut behind me I finally felt safe. I inhaled the familiar smell of dust and parchment. I stood awhile and just breathed. It was so different being there without Jai. It was like before she came, and yet it was not: I was used to her company now. Used to discussing which books we would choose, hearing her turn pages and then talking over what we had read while we locked the door to the treasure chamber and walked out through the dusky, dark house.
That evening I chose the ancient tales of the First Sisters. I have always loved reading about their journey to the island, their struggle to build Knowledge House and their survival in the first few years with nothing but fish and foraged wild fruits and berries as sustenance. Life on the island was difficult for the first few years. It did not get easier until some decades later, when they discovered the bloodsnail colony and the silver began to flow in.
I love reading about the island’s first novice and how rumours started to spread and the Abbey became a sanctuary for the vulnerable and the persecuted. I revelled in the story and the comforting sense of security it always afforded me.
It was already late in the evening and the light from the window was grey and dim. The massive bookshelves loomed in silence along the walls, full of treasure. The First Sisters planned all of this. They knew they would preserve their knowledge for generations of women after them. How must it have felt when they found the island and were saved? What were they thinking about?
Amid the prevailing silence, I heard the door to Knowledge House open and shut. Rapid footsteps came along the long corridor a
nd the library doors were thrown open.
“There you are. Sister O said I would find you here.” Sister Loeni stood in the door with her hands on her hips. “I know it is late and you have been working hard, but Sister Ers has just discovered that a fallen tree made a hole in the storehouse roof. We must mend it immediately, at least temporarily; else the food store will be ruined if it rains. You have been assigned to help.”
“I am so tired,” I said quietly. It was true. As I put the books back in their places under Sister Loeni’s watchful eyes, my arms were trembling so much I had to struggle with the heavier volumes. She tutted disapprovingly and shook her head.
“If I was responsible for the library I would never let you run around doing whatever you please. Sister O gives you too much freedom, so she does. She shouldn’t give you such preferential treatment.”
She does not show me preferential treatment at all, I thought, but out loud I simply said, “Is there no one else who can help?”
I locked the door behind me begrudgingly and gave the key to Sister Loeni, who was standing with her hand outstretched expectantly.
“There are several of us already working on it, Maresi. Everyone else is busy with other things. Now then, do not dally. It will not take long and then you can go to bed. No more reading for today.”
But it did take a long time to clear away the tree and mend the roof. By the time we finished it was already night. My head was aching with fatigue but my body was jittering with worry. Something stopped me from going to Novice House and to bed. I felt I needed to see the horizon and be able to breathe solitude. When the sisters were not looking I stole away into the shadows, left through the goat door and walked up the mountainside.
I know the mountain above the Abbey as well as I know Knowledge House, but this time everything was different. Stones had rolled down the slope and there were fallen trees and branches everywhere. I could not see the path in the faint twilight and I soon went astray. Suddenly I found myself too far north, looking down on the Temple of the Rose. I sat down on a rock and tightened my pullover around my shoulders. The night’s first stars were shining in the west. The sea glittered silver under the crescent of the new moon, caressed by a cool night wind. The Abbey rested in darkness below me. Everybody was asleep. The only lamplight came from Moon House and from Sister O’s window. Beneath me the island of Menos mumbled and sighed, getting ready for sleep. Even the nightbirds had settled down to rest. The stillness, the beauty and the crescent moon calmed my senses, but my anxiety refused to let go completely. I thought about Jai, who had been my friend since her very first day but had now turned away from me. I could not understand why.
After a while my toes felt stiff with cold and I realized it was time to go back. I got up and started walking tentatively in the direction of where I thought the path should be. The slope was slippery with fallen leaves and naked earth. I stumbled several times and was not entirely sure where I was. Some bushes appeared in front of me that I could not remember seeing before.
Suddenly I stepped on something soft. The ground beneath me gave way and a hole opened under my feet. I managed to lurch forward in time so I did not fall down the hole but hung there instead with my belly on the ground and legs dangling down. The storm must have uncovered an underground cavern.
I heard a rustling around me. In the faint moonlight I saw hundreds of iridescent butterflies flutter up out of the bushes. Their wings looked unnaturally large and they shone silver and grey in the soft light. The butterflies seemed never-ending as more and more and more flew out of the bushes and into the night. I was entranced by the beauty and stayed hanging there, enraptured. It was like a goodnight greeting from the island itself.
When the last butterfly had flown I heard the voice.
Maresi, it whispered. My daughter.
It came from the hole beneath me. She was there in the darkness. Waiting. I could feel her icy grasp on my feet. She was grappling to get hold of me. I kicked and screamed as loud as I could to drown out the sound of her voice.
“You cannot have me!” I screamed. “I am not yours!”
I crawled up and out of the Crone’s icy reach. The bushes around me were still rustling. At first I thought it was more butterflies, but this time skinny shapes came slithering out through the grass and around my feet. Snakes. Dozens, hundreds of snakes wriggled hissing from the bush. They disappeared into holes, under stones, between knotted cypress roots. I stood dead still. Snakes are rarely seen on the island, and here were more snakes than I had ever seen before in my whole life. They made me think of the handle on the Crone’s door, and fear seized me in its strong grip. I wanted to run away from the cavern and the Crone but I could not move for fear of the snakes. Only when the last snake had disappeared did I dare take a single step. Then a second step. I stamped every step as hard as I could in my sandals to frighten away the snakes.
To frighten away the Crone herself, if I could.
It took me an eternity to get back to the path. When I finally found it in the darkness I ran down to the goat door. I had left it ajar and now I closed it behind me.
I closed it, I know I did. I can still hear the click from when I pulled it shut behind me. But I cannot remember if I bolted it.
I was so tired and so afraid of the Crone. I wanted to go to my bed, to safety under my own blanket. My legs were shaking and my arms were aching after the day’s work. I usually always bolt the door, but however much I think about it, I cannot remember if I did that night.
I crept into bed. For a short while I lay there listening to the other girls breathing. I knew that if I stretched my hand out to Jai she would not take it. Finally I was so exhausted that sleep took hold of me and enveloped me like a grave. I slept so deeply and dreamlessly that it took me a long time to swim back up to the surface when a rhythmic noise cut into my sleep.
It was long before dawn. The sound that woke me came from the window. A sharp, rhythmic tapping.
In the bed next to mine Jai sat upright, her hands twitching and gripping the edge of her blanket. She was staring at the window.
There was a flapping and rustling outside. Something large thudded against the glass. Then the tapping started again, this time even more insistent.
Dori’s Bird made a whistling sound. Dori jumped up out of bed, rushed over to the window and flung it open before I could stop her.
In flew a koan bird, the symbol of the Abbey. It circled the dormitory and let out a single piercing shriek. Dazed heads and groans of protest emerged from the beds around me. Jai did not take her eyes off the koan bird.
“The birds…” she said quietly. “The birds bring warning.”
Ennike had woken up. She was listening but did not say a word.
Dori’s Bird chattered indignantly.
“It is breeding season,” said Dori. “The koan birds are breeding on the other side of the mountain.” We exchanged a glance.
“There are sheltered coves in the east,” I said slowly.
“They have come,” whispered Jai.
“They do not know the mountains. It will take them a long time to find their way here. And it is dark.” Dori called to the koan bird with a whistle and it came to her at once. She stroked its feathers while Bird looked on jealously, then she carefully shooed the koan bird out and shut the window. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.
As soon as my feet touched the floor I could feel her. The Crone was very close. I could feel her hunger and her darkness. The door to her realm was still closed, but the Crone’s pungent breath came floating through the night.
I took a deep breath.
“They are close. Maybe already over the mountain.”
We looked at each other. Jai, Dori, Ennike and I. We racked our brains in quiet desperation, thinking what we should do.
Jai threw her blanket aside. “I am waking Sister Nummel.”
“I will run to Mother,” said Dori, and they were both out of the door in a flash. Ennike
ran around and shook the still-sleeping novices awake.
I sat down. The ship and the men did not concern me. It was not them I feared. It was the thought of the Crone’s voice that froze up my limbs. I could not move. My heart was thudding wildly. My arms felt the weight of Anner’s body again. I had tried to protect her and give her some of my food, but she was already a weak child when she was born. Sickly. I could not get her to eat. I could not get her fever down. She could not withstand the Crone’s siren call. She left me with empty arms.
I was still sitting there when Sister Nummel entered the room.
“How can you be so sure?” she said to Jai, who came in after her. “A single bird is not a sign.” She looked at the frightened faces of the half-asleep novices.
“Honestly, Maresi.” Sister Nummel glared at me. “They listen to you, that is not a power you should abuse. Think of the junior novices. They will be scared out of their minds.”
The junior novices. They had to get out of bed. The thought of them shot life into my paralysed limbs. I quickly put on my pullover, stuck my left foot in a sandal and made my way between the beds, hopping on one leg to get the other sandal on. Sister Nummel protested but I did not hear what she said. Jai looked at me and gave me a quick nod. She ripped the blanket away from the novice nearest to her.
“Up, at once! Get dressed. Warm clothes over your nightgowns. Now.”
I rushed past Ennike’s bed and into the junior novices’ dormitory. I stood in the doorway and looked at the sleeping heads on white sheets. Thin little necks and half-open mouths. Heo, Ismi, Leitha, Sirna and Paene. Jai’s words echoed in my head. He will have his revenge on everyone who sheltered me. Everyone. I could feel the Crone. She was pulling us towards her door.
The Red Abbey Chronicles Page 9
