The Salbine Sisters

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The Salbine Sisters Page 16

by Sarah Ettritch


  Enough of this nonsense! Lillian drew air.

  The innkeeper’s eyes bulged when his feet left the floor. He flailed about as he rose to the ceiling; the rag he held dropped from his fingers. Gasps rose behind Lillian. “Salbine preserve me,” the innkeeper wailed, his arms and legs dangling. All eyes were on the innkeeper; several travellers had risen to their feet, their mouths open.

  “Since he doesn’t want to host us, I suppose we’ll have to find another inn,” she said to Barnabus. They turned and walked away.

  “No! Please, let me down! I’m sorry, Sister. Please!”

  For a moment Lillian considered abruptly cutting the flow and unceremoniously dumping him to the floor. But he might hurt himself, and that would mean a fuss, and more wailing, and probably her supper would be late. Her stomach grumbled, underscoring that last point. With a sigh, she gently lowered the innkeeper to the floor.

  “Oh Sister, forgive me,” he cried, throwing himself at her feet and grabbing her cloak. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

  He could get his grimy hands off her cloak, for a start. She stepped back. When he still clung to her, she took another step back and fought the urge to give him an encouraging kick. He finally let go.

  “We’ve had travellers through here from Garryglen, see,” he said, gazing up at her. “They had a bit of trouble there, with someone posing as a sister, the very sister who stayed here not long ago. Warned us there could be more about, asking for handouts.” His brow furrowed. “Is that why you’re here? You’re on your way to Garryglen to see if there are more?”

  She ignored his question. “Did any of these travellers mention what happened to the sister?”

  “The one posing as a sister, you mean? Aye. Salbine took her.”

  Lillian’s breath caught in her throat. No.

  The innkeeper rose hesitantly, then straightened when Lillian didn’t react. “Salbine swooped right out of the sky, She did. Taller than all the trees, with flames shooting out of Her eyes. Reduced the poser to a pile of ash. Nothing left of her, I hear.”

  Oh, for Lina’s sake!

  A nearby traveller found his voice. “It’s true, Sister. One of the guards told me.”

  One who hadn’t been present when Maddy had been dragged before the magistrate, no doubt. “Can you show us our rooms?” she said.

  The innkeeper stared at her.

  “Our rooms,” Barnabus repeated.

  Comprehension dawned in his eyes. “Ness!” he bellowed. A barmaid who looked no older than fourteen approached the bar, her eyes downcast. “Take them to the two rooms at the end of the hall. And if there’s anything you want, Sister—”

  “Bring me a bowl of stew and a tankard of cider, as soon as you can.” She looked at Barnabus.

  “Make mine ale.” He drew several coins from his purse and dropped them into the innkeeper’s hand.

  “Of course,” the innkeeper said, bowing.

  Barnabus turned to Lillian as they followed Ness up the stairs. “It’s not surprising that they’ve heard of the sister’s trouble,” he whispered. “We’re within a week of Garryglen now.”

  “Yes, and the tale grows taller with each passing mile,” Lillian murmured.

  “I’ll fetch what we need from the stables,” he said, no longer whispering.

  Lillian nodded. Not long now until she found out if Maddy lived. If she didn’t, it would take every ounce of willpower Lillian had to keep herself from incinerating the magistrate and anyone else involved, on the spot. She wasn’t taller than all the trees and didn’t have flames shooting from her eyes, but reducing morons to piles of ashes—that she could do! But she wouldn’t. Not only would she disappoint Sophia and face her wrath, but she wasn’t sure Maddy would approve. Lillian snorted. Her love for Maddy was turning her soft! A love that would never die, even if Maddy had.

  Chapter Twelve

  And, as always, I’ll trust that You know what’s best for me. Your will be done. Maddy lifted her head. That last part of her prayer was growing more difficult to say as the days dragged on. If her malflowed condition hadn’t already made her question Salbine’s guiding hand, she’d certainly be questioning it now.

  Behind her, Emmey shifted position for the fifth or sixth time. She’d learned to remain quiet through Maddy’s morning and evening prayer time, but it wasn’t easy for her. Maddy stretched, signalling that she was done, and Emmey instantly spoke. “Who’s the abbess, Miss?”

  Certain that she’d never mentioned the abbess, Maddy turned to Emmey in surprise.

  “The abbess,” Emmey repeated, interpreting Maddy’s expression as confusion. “Sometimes you say that when you’re praying.”

  “I didn’t realize I was praying out loud.”

  “You don’t do it all the time, Miss. But sometimes you do. Sometimes I have to move closer to you before I can hear anything.”

  Part of Maddy smiled. The other part wanted to say it wasn’t polite to eavesdrop on others’ prayers, but given their circumstances, that part lost. “The abbess is the head of a monastery.”

  “You mean she’s the leader?”

  “I suppose she is, yes. Though she doesn’t order us around very often.”

  “Who’s Rose?”

  Anticipating a lengthy conversation, Maddy sat cross-legged. “Rose is a sister, and a friend. We joined the Order around the same time. She’s a bit younger than I am, though. I joined later than most sisters do.”

  Emmey’s face scrunched up. “Why?”

  “I didn’t want to leave my family.” Well, it was half true.

  “Who’s Lillian?”

  “She’s also a sister,” Maddy said, hoping her answer would satisfy Emmey.

  “You say her name a lot, like you’re worried about her.” Emmey turned her attention to furiously scratching her feet.

  Maddy was grateful for that; her face felt hot. But Emmey was a bright girl; why not tell her the truth? “You know what it means to be marked by Salbine?” she asked, stalling a bit. Based on her very first conversation with Emmey, she already knew the answer.

  “Uh-huh,” Emmey said, still scratching. “Oh!” Her head jerked up, her eyes wide. “Is Lillian . . . is she . . . ?”

  “Yes, she is,” Maddy said. “And yes, I’m worried about her. I promised I’d write to her, but I obviously haven’t. She’s probably worried about me.” At least Maddy hoped she was.

  “Is she pretty?”

  “I wouldn’t say she’s pretty,” Maddy said slowly.

  Emmey pondered Maddy’s answer. “If she’s not pretty, how come you like her?”

  “When I said she’s not pretty, I meant that’s not a word people would use to describe her, not that she isn’t appealing. She’s appealing to me.”

  “Did she join at the same time you did, Miss?”

  Maddy shook her head. “Lillian’s older than I am. Quite a bit older. She joined the Order a long time ago.”

  “You must miss her.”

  More than she could express.

  “Maybe she’ll be the one that comes to get you!” Emmey said excitedly.

  “I doubt it.”

  “Why, Miss? She’d want to come get you. Because she misses you!”

  If only it were that simple. “Lillian doesn’t like to leave the monastery, and she’s not . . . um, very good with people. Most people either bore or irritate her.”

  “You don’t, Miss.”

  Maddy couldn’t help but smile. “You’re right. Apparently, I don’t.” And she sometimes wondered why. “Even if Lillian wanted to come, I’m not sure the abbess would let her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Lillian is the opposite of me. Remember I told you I can’t draw the elements? Well, she can, and she’s very powerful.”

  Emmey nodded knowingly. “Makes sense, Miss.”

  “Does it?” Emmey’s confident response surprised Maddy. Surely Emmey couldn’t have some insight into Salbine’s mind that Maddy didn’t have.

  �
��There’s gotta be a reason you like her. She’s not pretty and she’s old, and she don’t like nobody.”

  “Older, not old.”

  Emmey’s expression clearly conveyed that she considered “older” and “old” one and the same. She sat back on her heels. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

  “No, you won’t,” Maddy said firmly.

  “I will, Miss!” Emmey cried. “I will!” She stared fiercely at Maddy, defiance in her eyes.

  “You won’t miss me because I’m not leaving without you,” Maddy said, patting Emmey’s knee.

  “No, I’m never leaving, Miss,” Emmey said, shaking her head. “I have to stay in here.”

  “Why? You told me you nicked a purse. Is that all you did? Nicking a purse was wrong and you shouldn’t have done it. But you don’t deserve to be in here for the rest of your life, if that’s all you did.”

  Emmey scratched her ear. “I didn’t do nothing else.”

  “Just nicked a purse?”

  Emmey nodded.

  It didn’t make sense. “Whose purse did you nick?” Maddy vaguely recalled the governor making a remark about nobles, though she might have dreamed it.

  “It don’t matter whose purse I nicked. Nobody can get me out of here, Miss.”

  “The Salbine Sisters have influence. When they come for me, you’re leaving too.” If they came. “And once we’re out, I’ll take you home. That’s a promise.” She’d expected to boost Emmey’s spirits, but Emmey remained sombre.

  The key turned in the lock and the cell door swung open. Maddy’s skin crawled when Evans stepped into the cell. He glanced around, distaste plain on his face. “Quite thick in here, isn’t it?” he said as his hungry eyes settled on Emmey.

  In her weakened state, Maddy would be no match for him. Brawny and over six feet tall, he’d easily overcome her, even if she were healthy. That wouldn’t stop her from fighting him if he laid a hand on Emmey, though. So far her presence alone had kept him at bay, and today was no exception.

  “Gov says it’s time for another bath, and I have to agree with him,” he said. Madison poked his head into the cell and wrinkled his nose.

  Her heart sank. Had that much time passed already? Was anyone from the monastery on her way? Maddy slowly pushed herself to her feet and shuffled after Evans, barely aware of Emmey’s hand clutching hers. Irritated by her slow gait, Madison pushed her forward and she picked up her pace.

  “Can I watch?” Evans said with a leer when they reached the same cell they’d bathed in previously.

  Madison groaned. “That’s sick, that is. What if the gov’s right and she’s a real sister?”

  Evans caught Maddy’s eye. They both knew he wasn’t interested in her. She tugged on Emmey’s hand. “Come on,” she murmured, trusting Madison to ensure that Evans remained on the other side of the cell door. She examined the pile of clothing near the tub and held up a shift and simple dress that looked roughly Emmey’s size. The governor must have special-ordered it from a seamstress. Maddy would remember his kindness in her evening prayer.

  Emmey chattered away as she bathed. Physically and mentally weary, Maddy only half listened, and by the time she lowered herself into the water, her mood had darkened. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remain positive, to keep hoping, to reassure herself that one day the cell door would swing open and she’d be led to a sister waiting in the governor’s office. Had Salbine utterly abandoned her? Was it not enough that she couldn’t draw the elements? She had nothing more to lose—but then she felt Emmey rub soap on her back and realized she did. Without Emmey, she’d go mad. Apparently she was already saying her prayers out loud. How had Emmey survived alone?

  As she dried off, she noticed the silence and cursed herself. Emmey must have sensed her mood. Maddy slipped into her clean clothes and lifted Emmey’s dress from the table. She forced a smile. She must never allow her despair and resignation to show, no matter how down she felt. “Let’s get you into this dress.”

  After helping Emmey into it, Maddy stepped back and studied the girl, her hands on her hips. “That’s a much better fit than the tent you’ve been wearing, isn’t it?” she said, smiling when Emmey giggled. “Mine looks like a—”

  The cell door smashed open. “Out! Now!” Madison barked, gesturing furiously.

  Her heart pounding, Maddy grabbed Emmey’s hand. When she stepped out of the cell, the smoke curling up the passageway stung her eyes and clogged her nostrils. “What’s happening?” she gasped. He didn’t answer. “Don’t let go of my hand, do you understand?” she said to Emmey. “Keep holding my hand.” She covered her mouth and tried not to lose sight of Madison.

  The smoke thickened. It seemed to be billowing into the passageway from ahead of them. Madison turned, motioned for Maddy to go in the opposite direction. Somewhere distant, a bell was ringing.

  “Help!” someone shouted. “Let me out!” A prisoner reached through the bars into the passageway. Salbine have mercy. The prisoners would die unless they were released!

  “We have to keep moving,” Madison said hoarsely. “If we stop to let them out, we’ll die.”

  She opened her mouth to demand his keys, then wheezed when smoke filled her lungs. Madison pushed her forward. She turned to check on Emmey. Emmey held a hand over her nose, but the smoke wasn’t as thick near her face. Maddy crouched and sucked in air. A loud shout from behind set her trembling. She glanced over her shoulder.

  A figure emerged from the gloom, followed by another. “Bastard!” the first prisoner yelled, swinging a mace into Madison’s helmet. Madison staggered and fell to his knees. The prisoner smashed the mace into Madison’s face. “Stupid bastard!”

  Maddy tugged Emmey forward, hoping to escape unnoticed, but the second prisoner had already spotted them. “What have we here?” He lunged at Maddy, waving a flaming piece of wood.

  “No!” Emmey screamed, leaping at him. He swung the wood at her.

  “Emmey!” Maddy thrust out her arm to block the makeshift torch, then grabbed it. Searing pain made her drop it; she stared in horror at her right hand, now aflame. For a moment she didn’t think it was real, thought she’d unconsciously drawn fire. Emmey’s screams brought her to her senses. Maddy shook her hand and beat it against the stone wall, but it continued to burn, encouraged by the oil she’d picked up from the wood.

  “Bitch is on fire!” the prisoner shrieked; hysterical laughter rang in her ears. “Watch the fire burn. Ha-ha! Watch it burn!”

  All the shaking and beating finally extinguished the flames. Wisps of smoke rose from her trembling hand. She pressed it against herself, but felt little pain. “Miss!” Emmey cried, and Maddy turned.

  The prisoner with the mace stepped toward her. “Your turn!”

  Her mouth opened as he drew back his arm, but smoke stifled her scream. Then his eyes widened and he pitched forward, slamming into her, driving her head and back into the wall. She glimpsed the guards behind him, then she passed out.

  *****

  Maddy opened her eyes, then quickly closed them, not used to the light.

  “Her eyes flickered!” Emmey exclaimed. “Miss?”

  She turned her head toward Emmey’s voice. The horror in the passageway came flooding back. Her hand and lower arm felt sore, but not overly so. She opened her eyes again and lifted her right hand. The moment she saw it, she knew.

  “Does it hurt, Miss?” Emmey was kneeling at the side of the bed, her elbows propped on its edge.

  Bed? They weren’t in their cell, then. “Part of it hurts,” she said, managing a smile. The red edges around the charred areas smarted.

  “A healer came to see you, Miss. She’s with the gobernor.”

  “Governor,” Maddy said reflexively. “Where are we?”

  Before Emmey could answer, the governor and a woman Maddy presumed was the healer stepped into the room. “Thought I heard voices,” the governor said gruffly.

  The healer approached the bed and peered down at Maddy. “Go
with the governor, child. I have to . . . tend to your friend.”

  Emmey frowned.

  “Do what she says, Emmey,” Maddy murmured.

  Emmey’s shoulders slumped. “All right.”

  “You can come back in as soon as I’m finished,” the healer said as the governor ushered Emmey from the room and shut the door. She turned to Maddy. “Have you ever seen burns like yours before?”

  “Yes. I used to help tend the sick.” And those with burns like hers were in the group that received prayers, not aid. They rarely returned.

  “Then you’ll know there’s nothing to be done for you,” the healer said briskly, though her eyes were kind. “Are you hurting much?”

  “Not much, no.”

  The healer nodded. “I’ve left a few teas with the governor, to help when the inner fire starts. If it gets really bad . . . if you’re feeling you’d rather pass to another realm . . .” The healer swallowed. “I’ve left a special tea with the governor. Just ask him for the special tea. He’ll know which one you mean.”

  “Thank you.” Maddy hoped she’d have the courage not to use it, but knowing she had the option could help her endure whatever she faced before she passed.

  “I’ll let you rest, then. If you need anything else, ask the governor to send for me. I’ll come.”

  “You’re very kind. Would you do me one favour?”

  “If it’s something I can do, yes.”

  “Would you stay with the girl outside while I speak privately to the governor for a minute?”

  “Aye.” She patted Maddy’s shoulder. “Salbine keep you.”

  “And you.”

  The healer left the room. Moments later, the governor came in and shut the door. “Mazie says you want to talk to me.”

  “I do.”

  “If you’re wanting somewhere more comfortable, I can probably find a place for you in Reedwick, the town just down the hill. I have friends there who’ll help. I’d like to help.” He wrung his hands. “Because you’re a real sister, aren’t you?”

  She met his eyes. “Yes, I am.”

 

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