The mistress tutted and rolled her eyes. “Give me strength. You’re not the first initiate to fail her fire exam. You’ll get another chance, but now it’s time for air. Get to that assembly and apply yourself this time.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Maddy said, mentally adding you old bat! “I didn’t fail my fire exam. I didn’t even take it. I can’t draw the elements.” She kept her voice even with great difficulty. “I’m what’s called malflowed. The elements are closed to me.”
Mistress Clarissa was silent for a moment, then she snorted. “You mean you can’t draw the elements at all? That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“Well, I’m glad you find my condition so amusing. If there’s anything else I can do to entertain you, let me know.” Maddy hitched up her robe and stomped off. If the mistress thought she’d bob, she could think again!
“Come back here, you rude little so-and-so,” the mistress called. Then, when Maddy ignored her, she added, “The abbess will hear about this, I assure you.”
At one time, the mistress’s threat to report her to the abbess would have horrified Maddy, struck the fear of Salbine Herself into her. But now she didn’t care, not one bit. She couldn’t disappoint the abbess any further. After all, she couldn’t draw the elements. How silly!
Without giving herself time to think, she strode to the Mistresses Tower and climbed to the second floor. The door to the abbess’s study stood ajar. Maddy knocked on it and waited, trying to slow her breathing.
“Come in,” the abbess called.
She pushed the door open. “May I speak with you?”
“Of course.” The abbess set down a document and indicated a chair before her desk. “Sit down.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll stand.” Wanting privacy, Maddy shut the door, then faced the abbess. “I want to go to Heath. I want you to consider sending me instead of Sister Clara. Please.”
The abbess pulled off her spectacles. She reached for a cloth on her desk, cleaned the lenses, and popped the spectacles back onto her nose. “Sister Clara is a scribe. She can help the Heath sisters copy the material.”
“But she doesn’t know what’s important. What she copies may not be useful to me.” Maddy started to pace. “Understanding the malflowed condition on a scholarly basis is important, but understanding how the sister dealt with the condition is even more important to me. I need to know if she reconciled her condition with Salbine.” She stopped in front of the abbess’s desk and forced out the words that would lay her bare. “I need to know if she lost her connection to Salbine. If her life lacked meaning.”
“Does yours?” Abbess Sophia asked impassively.
Now Maddy sank into a chair. “I don’t know.” Was the part of her that used to feel so alive and imbued with purpose depressed, or dead? “I don’t know anything, that’s the problem. I just . . .” Too many thoughts competed for her attention, frustrating her. She took a moment to sort through them, wanting to get to the crux of the matter so she wouldn’t try the abbess’s patience. “I’m alone in this. Nobody else is in my position. Someone once was, and I need to know how she dealt with it on a personal level.”
The abbess nodded. “Heath said there are journals. But they may not hold what you’re hoping for.”
“But at least if I go, see what’s there for myself, I’ll know for sure. I won’t wonder if something could have helped me, but Sister Clara didn’t recognize its importance. She said it’s not about me, but isn’t it? If I wasn’t malflowed, nobody would be travelling to Heath. And you said if I wanted to find sisters like me, I would have to read about them. Well, there isn’t much to read here, but we know there’s plenty to read at Heath. I’d like to get to know Heath’s malflowed sister myself, not through someone else.”
The abbess leaned forward, rested her elbows on the desk, and sighed into her hands. “Normally only those who’ve reached adept are allowed away from the monastery for extended periods.”
“I thought that was because they’re able to defend themselves,” Maddy said, a glimmer of hope rising within her. “We both know I’ll never be able to use the elements to defend myself.”
“As I’ve tried to tell you, you’re a sister, just like all the others. I can’t bend rules for you because you’re malflowed. I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
In this case, she desperately did. “I don’t think I can be happy here, not unless I sort this out.”
“And you’re hoping the material at Heath will help you.”
Maddy nodded.
Abbess Sophia sat back, pressing her palms against the desktop. “You’re sure you can’t sort it out here?”
Not when reminders of her condition were everywhere she looked. Everything that usually inspired now inflicted pain. The same might happen at Heath, but at least she’d have a purpose there, albeit a temporary one. “I need to get away. Sometimes I almost forget that I’m malflowed, start to believe that perhaps I do belong here and that I can be happy.” Maddy lifted her hands and let them fall to her lap. “And then I’ll see my friends on their way to training, or feel empty during prayers. It’s as if I’ve burned my hand and just as it’s starting to heal, I burn it again. Here, the fire is all around me. It’s just—I need to get away.”
The abbess frowned. “You would be going to another monastery. Though I suppose the journey could prove beneficial. Perhaps you’ll have sorted things out before you arrive at Heath.”
If that turned out to be true, nobody would be happier than Maddy.
“I could send you with Sister Clara, instead of in her place. Though I suppose the point of sending you is so you can look at all the material yourself.”
Exactly. Sister Clara would only be extra baggage. And it sounded as if the abbess would grant her permission to go!
“Have you spoken to Lillian about this?” the abbess asked.
Maddy’s burst of excitement instantly fizzled. “Not yet. I thought it best to see if you’d grant me permission first.” Actually, she hadn’t thought at all. She’d rushed here in a fit of anger and frustration. She didn’t regret it—she needed to go to Heath—but leaving Lillian behind would be difficult. “Lillian is the one bright spot in my life. I don’t want to leave her, but I have to sort this out. I’ll never be happy if I don’t.” She hesitated, then spoke to Lillian’s sister. “I know we haven’t been seeing each other for long, but I care about Lillian very much. I don’t know where our relationship will go, but I do know that I’ll find it difficult to be happy with someone if I’m not happy with myself, with my life.”
Now the hard part. “And I want to be sure I’m with Lillian for the right reasons, not because I’m leaning on her, or because I want a reason to remain at the monastery that doesn’t involve Salbine.” Her daydreams of a future with Lillian, of becoming Lillian’s consort and sharing chambers with her, had made Maddy wonder, given the newness of their relationship. On the other hand, didn’t wondering mean that she wasn’t fooling herself, that she wanted a future with Lillian for the right reasons? Or was that part of her self-deception, fed by her desperation to find a reason to call the monastery home again? “I believe I’m with Lillian for Lillian, but everything is so intertwined that I can’t say so with certainty.”
“So you wouldn’t want Lillian to go with you?” the abbess said. “I can ask her to accompany you, but she doesn’t like to leave the monastery, so she might refuse.”
“No, I don’t want her with me,” Maddy said firmly. She already knew Lillian was most comfortable inside the walls and would never ask her to venture outside on a journey that could be futile. And what if they fell out? They could fall out here, but they could avoid each other here, too. Up until a few months ago she’d rarely seen Lillian outside of evening prayers, where Maddy had become familiar with her back. And having Lillian along would only distract her and perhaps hinder her healing process, if there was one. “I have to go on my own.” Sorting things out included sorting
out her feelings for Lillian. If Maddy quickly forgot about her, she’d have her answer.
The chapel bells rang the noon hour. The abbess stared stonily into space until long after they’d fallen silent. “I’ll let you go,” she finally said, then lifted a finger. “If you promise me you’ll come back.”
“Of course I’ll come back,” Maddy exclaimed, shocked that the abbess would raise the possibility that she wouldn’t. “I took my vows. I know I can’t leave.”
Abbess Sophia lifted an eyebrow. “Can’t you? As you pointed out, adepts are allowed to travel because they can use the elements to defend themselves. Along the same lines, sisters can’t leave the Order because a sister who’s turned her back on Salbine may use the elements against others. You’ll never be a threat in that sense.”
Maddy hadn’t turned her back on Salbine either. Salbine had been the one to turn Her back.
“Having said that, I would hate to see you leave the Order. It would greatly disappoint me,” the abbess continued. “But as you said, you are alone in this. Nobody else is malflowed. If you were to ask me to release you from your vows, I would reluctantly consider it, even though I think you’d be committing a grave error.”
“I’m not asking for that.” Yet. While the prospect of leaving the Order frightened her, Maddy couldn’t deny a smidgen of relief. Perhaps she wasn’t trapped after all. But what of Lillian? “I promise I’ll return.” She’d at least want to say good-bye.
Abbess Sophia blinked at her. “Then you have my permission to go. Though Sister Clara will probably be upset,” she added with a sigh. “I’ll have to come up with something else for her, make sure she gets her journey.”
Maddy closed her eyes. “Thank you, Abbess. Thank you.”
“But you’re not going alone.”
Maddy’s eyes snapped open.
“I’m sending a defender with you.” The abbess held up her hand. “Not because you’re malflowed. Sisters always travel with defenders, so I was sending one with Sister Clara, too. Even if that wasn’t the custom, I would always send a defender. I value every sister here. Every single one.”
A lump formed in Maddy’s throat.
“Sister Clara planned to leave on Thursday. Will you be ready to leave by then?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” The abbess scratched her nose. “Now, I don’t want you to mention this to anyone until I’ve spoken to Mistress Averill and Sister Clara. Except Lillian. You will leave this study and go directly to Lillian and tell her, do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“She’s probably in her laboratory.”
“I don’t know the way,” Maddy admitted. “I’ve only been a couple of times.”
“Remember this: left, right, right, left, right.”
“Once I’ve entered the catacombs?”
The abbess nodded. “After you’ve seen her, come to the library. I’ll be there by then.” She paused. “I do hope you find what you need,” she said softly.
Me too.
“Off you go, then.”
Maddy stood and bobbed. “Thank you, Abbess.” She left the study, elated that she’d go to Heath but dreading Lillian’s reaction.
*****
Lillian squinted at the parchment and moved it farther away from her until the words came into focus. Sophia had suggested it was time for spectacles, but Lillian’s eyes were perfectly fine. She only ever had a problem reading in the laboratory, where there wasn’t much light. And when reading tiny script, like Mistress Meredith’s. And the odd tome challenged her, but that was all. She had no idea why spectacles had entered Sophia’s mind.
It didn’t help that she was distracted. How long had she stared at this formula, while brooding over inviting Maddy to her chambers? She should have extended an invitation long before now, but her chambers in the Adepts Tower had tortured her for months after Caroline left. Everywhere she’d turned, a reminder. If the memories had been bittersweet, they would have been easier to bear. Instead they’d mocked her, berated her, reminded her of her stupidity and filled her with regret. She didn’t want to repeat the experience with Maddy.
But barring Maddy from her chambers for Caroline’s transgressions was unfair. It was time. When Maddy left her—and she would—it wouldn’t be the same as when Caroline had left. Her relationship with Maddy was healthy and positive; it bore no resemblance to the sick, life-leeching association with Caroline she wished had never happened. This time, the memories would be bittersweet. The knowledge that Maddy had genuinely cared would temper the sadness over losing her.
Lillian refocused on the parchment. Once she understood the formula, she’d find Maddy and invite her to drop in for a hot cider. And perhaps stay the night? She’d see how she felt.
“Good, you’re here.”
Lillian jumped and twisted toward the door. Maddy stood in the doorway, illuminated by the torch she held. “What a nice surprise,” Lillian said, setting the parchment down on the table. “I was just thinking about you.”
Maddy came closer, and Lillian’s delight faded when she saw her grim face. “Are you all right? You look a little tense.”
“I’ve just come from the abbess,” Maddy said.
“Is something wrong?”
Maddy sighed and slid the torch into an empty sconce. She turned to Lillian. “I don’t know how to say this, so I might as well just come out with it. I’m going to Heath, instead of Sister Clara. I leave in a few days.”
The shock that reverberated through her made Lillian’s voice shake. “Why is she sending you instead of Sister Clara?”
“I asked her to,” Maddy said softly.
She’d asked her to. She was leaving. Lillian hadn’t expected this moment to arrive so soon, or to be so dramatic. She’d imagined Maddy gently severing their relationship when she’d grown bored or was ready to take a consort, not an abrupt and final end that had her leaving the monastery.
“I need to go to Heath, need to sort through the material myself.” Maddy reached out to touch Lillian’s face.
Lillian drew back. She picked up the parchment and focused on it. “Thank you for telling me,” she said stiffly.
“Lillian, please look at me. Please.”
Why, so Maddy could see her pain laid bare and smile smugly, as Caroline always had?
“I don’t have much time. I have to meet the abbess in the library.”
“You’d better get going, then.” Lillian swallowed when she felt Maddy’s hand on her arm. Why wouldn’t she just leave?
“We have to talk about this. Why don’t you come to my chambers in about an hour?”
“I don’t see the point, Maddy. You’ll be gone for longer than we’ve been seeing each other.”
“But—”
“If you still want to, we can talk when you get back from Heath.” If Maddy returned.
“Lillian, please.” Maddy’s voice was filled with sorrow.
“I have work to do,” Lillian said, her eyes still on the parchment.
A moment later, Maddy’s hand left Lillian’s arm. From the corner of her eye, Lillian glimpsed her sliding the torch from the sconce, then she could see her no longer. Maddy’s footsteps stopped when she neared the doorway. One part of Lillian hoped Maddy would turn back and press her to talk; the other wanted to be alone and to never see her again. The footsteps resumed, and then Maddy was gone, leaving a dimmer laboratory behind.
Once again Lillian had trouble reading the script on the parchment, but this time the tears in her eyes caused the blur.
Chapter Eight
Sophia stopped outside Lillian’s laboratory and peered through the doorway. Her heart ached. Lillian sat motionless, hunched over the table. “Maddy said you were here,” she said loudly, pretending not to notice when Lillian grabbed a piece of parchment and held it in front of her face.
“Not another visitor,” Lillian said with an exasperated sigh. “I come down here to be alone. I might as well be sitting in the middle of the blo
ody courtyard!”
“I’ve come to see how you are.” Sophia glanced around for an empty sconce and slid her torch into the nearest one. “Maddy said you were here.”
“And I suppose Maddy told you I’m not pleased that she’s leaving,” Lillian said, her voice even. She couldn’t relax the tautness in her face, though, and Sophia read her inner turmoil.
“Maddy didn’t tell me anything. She didn’t have to. Her long face told the story, just as yours does.”
Lillian let the parchment drop to the table. “Well, I’m fine, so you can go. But before you do, is there anyone you’d like me to pretend to be interested in so they’ll flee the monastery? Or is driving one sister away every twenty years good enough?” Her mouth tightened; she propped her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands.
“Caroline didn’t leave because of you. And Maddy isn’t, either.” Sophia slipped her arm around Lillian’s stiff shoulders and squeezed her. “She cares about you.”
“But not enough to stay,” Lillian said quietly.
“It’s not about you. It’s about her, about being malflowed.”
“It doesn’t matter that she’s malflowed!”
“It matters to her, Lillian. It matters to her.”
Sophia narrowly dodged the chair when Lillian suddenly pushed it back and stood. “I should never have gotten involved with her,” Lillian said, pacing. “I was content, Sophia. Content.” She stopped in front of the table and stabbed it with her finger for emphasis. “And then Maddy happened.”
“Things rarely just happen with you, Lillian,” Sophia said, her sympathy deepening at the sight of Lillian’s red eyes.
Lillian stared at her, then swung away to pace again. “Maddy did.” She threw up her arms. “Oh, and I suppose you and Elizabeth have been snickering at what a foolish cow I am, falling for a sister almost half my age.”
“We’ve done nothing of the sort!” Sophia exhaled sharply and reminded herself that Lillian was hurting. “I’ll admit that I was skeptical at first. But at the same time, I was pleased. I was starting to worry that you’d never risk a relationship again.”
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