by Scott Hale
As soon as she saw him, Mother Abbess Justine told the guards to leave. They turned around, surprised looks of relief on their faces. The guards quickly filed out of the room, with Avery and Mackenzie being the last to leave, shutting the doors on their way out.
“I am so glad you are safe,” Justine said. She nearly glided across the room and wrapped her arms around him. “I am a fool. Maybe I am not fit for my station.”
Felix didn’t know what she meant, but he did know that, if he didn’t tell her what he had figured out right away, he might not get the chance to for a while. “We can trust her. We can trust Audra.”
An almost fire-like heat exuded from Justine’s chest to his. It made his skin itch; it was starting to hurt. She could sense it, too, so she let go of him, and said, “Felix—”
But he interrupted her, the first time he ever had in his entire life, and said, “Alexander Blodworth brought her here to use as a weapon against the Worms of the Earth! And I think the Winnowers’ Chapter are the Cult of the Worm. I think Isla Taggart told them about her, after she told Isla everything she knew. I don’t know if they are good or bad, but I think Audra is good.” And then, to seal the deal, he added, “God thinks she is good, too. God’s spoken to me and decreed it so.”
Justine touched her chest, where the heat had been. She closed her fingers around what had to have been a piece of jewelry behind her shirt. “Felix, she’s not good. I don’t know why it took me so long to put this together. But she’s not good. She’s not even human.”
“What?”
“Alexander Blodworth didn’t bring her here to use as a weapon. He brought her here because she is a Worm. In Victor Mors’ journal, he mentioned that the Green and White Worms were missing. Disease, and religion. I do not know which she is, but I am certain now she is one of them. She communicates with the shadow creatures. She is capable of growing deadly plants no one else can. And her brother, King Edgar, has started a new religion of his own. What if she was part of that? Its creation? And what if she’s starting it here, here in Pyra, as well? Beginning with the Winnows’ Chapter.
“Felix, she’s been in that cell for years. We have not fed her once since Alexander Blodworth left for Geharra. And I’m sure she has mentioned the gas. That gas can kill a room full of men in five seconds. All it does to her is put her to sleep.”
“But… why did Blodworth bring her here then?” Felix couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She had to be wrong.
“I don’t know. I think he thought we were safer if our enemy were in our hands. I think he thought we could learn from her. It’s hard to say now, Felix. But I can say with absolute, infallible certainty that Audra of Eldrus is a Worm of the Earth.”
Tears welled in his eyes. “What are we going to do?”
Justine smiled and touched his cheek. “We have to find out everywhere she’s infiltrated, and then, with god’s permission, we will destroy her.”
CHAPTER VI
Felix didn’t believe her. Not one bit. A Worm being kept as a prisoner in Pyra? No, he wasn’t buying it. He didn’t know what the creatures were capable of, but he doubted a greenhouse and a gate, regardless of what they were made out of, could stop one. Sometimes, Justine told him he was too trusting, that he wanted to make friends with everyone. But he hardly knew Audra. That couldn’t be the case, could it? Maybe she really was a bad person. Heck, maybe she was the one who had killed her family. Felix wouldn’t deny that if it were true, but he just wanted to know. And he didn’t like that Justine thought she had to make up some crazy story to get him to turn on Audra. She was definitely testing him, but did she have other reasons for doing so? Did god speak to her, too? And if god did, did god share Felix’s thoughts with her? He hoped not. That wouldn’t be fair at all.
In the days that followed, Justine gave Felix more special missions. This time, she had him keeping tabs on several members of the Winnowers’ Chapter, including Isla Taggart again, who, to no one’s surprise, finally announced she was part of the extremist group. The Mother Abbess agreed that not only were the Winnowers’ Chapter likely connected to the Disciples of the Deep, but this Cult of the Worm, too.
“They are probably one and the same,” Justine said.
It was Saturday morning, breakfast time. Felix had just taken a seat after giving his prayer and announcements.
“Audra may even be using the shadows to communicate with King Edgar.”
Felix looked around the room. He couldn’t believe she was talking about these things out in the open. The gathering hall was packed today. Ever since everyone found out about Geharra and the Red Worm, more and more people from Penance had been visiting Pyra.
“They can’t hear us.” Justine pushed around the food on her plate. He never saw her eat anything at breakfast, but somehow, it was always gone by the hour’s end.
Felix whispered, “Do the exemplars know what we’re doing?”
The Mother Abbess laughed and, with no subtlety whatsoever, glanced at the two tables where the exemplars sat. “No.”
The exemplars smiled and nodded at her, oblivious.
“They are for the people, not for us.”
“The Winnowers’ call them idols, too,” Felix said.
Justine covered her mouth, stifling a burp. She blushed, stuttered out an apology.
“Are you okay?” Felix asked, as he thought, Holy crap, is she drunk?
Justine ignored him. “I want you to follow Father Marshall Jones. The Winnowers’ Chapter share leadership responsibilities. For now. He is one of those trusted few.”
Father Marshall Jones. He was a priest who spent a lot of time in Penance, holding mass for the poorer parts of the city-state. He nodded—Maybe I can go into the city after him. I could talk to Deimos and Lucan again—and took a drink of his milk.
“So much has been happening lately that I forgot to ask about the survivors from Geharra.”
Felix choked, spitting the milk into his cup. A splotchy, milk moustache ran across his lips. He wiped it off before someone noticed and said, “Brave men.”
“I’m going to bring them into Pyra. We should celebrate their accomplishments. I think everyone will appreciate that.”
“Did you—” he crunched into his apple, “—find out who they are?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, your holiness.”
She winked at him and hissed. Out of nowhere, he smelled burning wood. It made his eyes water.
“They’re from Mistmarsh. It’s a small town a few days out from the Divide. It’s Alexander Blodworth’s birthplace. He must have passed through on his way to Geharra and enlisted several of the men there who were part of Penance’s reserve.”
“Good way to keep what he was doing a secret,” Felix said.
“Alexander Blodworth.” Justine impaled a roll with her fork. “If ever there should have been an Exemplar of Secrets. You better visit Audra today. She will be suspicious, otherwise.”
What is going on? Felix sat back in his chair and sank into the sounds of clinking silverware and sloshing cups around him.
She wants me to see her? He cringed as he heard every smacking lip, every gnashing mouth. She wants me to go back and visit the Worm? He could smell the candles and the congregation’s hot, stale breath.
Why does she want to hurt me? The walls of the gathering hall darkened, and where there had been stone, there were trees, and where the congregation had been, there was only Samuel Turov, naked, in wait. Oh, god, please tell me. He didn’t believe her about Audra, but what if she wasn’t lying and was truly convinced the woman was a Worm?
God, tell me what she’s doing to me.
“Your holiness?” Justine took his chin and turned his head towards her.
It made him feel like the eleven-year-old he was, so he jerked away. “She’s a Worm.”
“She is imprisoned. Each Worm seems to be powerful in one particular skill. Clearly, breaking out of jail isn’t this one’s.” She stood up, signaling the end of
breakfast for everyone, and added, “Just keep your distance from now on. You’ve got god on your side. I trust god to keep you safe. Don’t you?” She sighed and bent down, putting her pale lips to his ear. “Did you forget? I want you to be our Holy Child forever. I know I am asking a lot, but if we can get through this together, we can get through anything.”
Felix felt pretty badly for the rest of the day, because the truth was, he had forgotten Justine’s offer. Eldrus’ murder of Geharra. The Red Worm. The Disciples of the Deep. The Winnowers’ Chapter. The Cult of the Worm. Night Terrors in his nightmares, and his city. Audra locked away, supposedly a Worm of the Earth herself. And then there was that niggling feeling that the Mother Abbess had let Samuel Turov take him away. That she had been behind all the disgusting things that man had… It was a lot. She expected a lot out of him. But it made sense. If he was going to be the last, true speaker of god, he had to prove himself. He couldn’t crumble. He could question her, but he couldn’t crumble.
After all the remodeling and additions to Pyra, to still call it an abbey was kind of a stretch. In this lower level of Pyra, the Lyceum, Felix now followed Father Marshall Jones through was a honeycomb of classrooms, sleeping quarters, and maintenance stations that sat beneath the main terminal. It was here that those wishing to join the Holy Order full-time began their training. But since it was Saturday, most of those students were in Penance, getting drunk with the maintenance workers.
When it came to special missions, the more corners, the better, and the Lyceum, being a literal honeycomb, had the best corners in all of Pyra. Felix had been down here about fifteen minutes. Right now, he was pressed up against a wall, fixing his wig. Further ahead, Father Marshall Jones was shuffling down the hall, his cane clicking with every other step down the hall.
Felix had put on his shabbiest dress, to look like one of the “tunnel rats” that assisted the maintenance workers. The problem was, he had grown out of it, so it kept riding up on him.
Father Marshall Jones was the definition of a geezer. He had white hair, long nails, bad breath, and a terrible temper. But he was observant, and if Felix ended up failing this special mission because he stopped at the wrong time to fish out a wedgie and Father Jones caught him, he might just give up this part-time spy business altogether.
Felix peeked around the corner. The priest had given up the turtle act and sprinted around the next corner. Faker, he thought. He took out his journal and scribbled on Father Marshall Jones’ page: “He wants to look weak, so people won’t know how strong he really is.” He smiled, pleased with that little bit of insight, stowed the journal, and took off.
Where was Father Jones going? The Lyceum was basically a bland basement of cobblestone walls and identical rooms. But even Felix could tell they were going in circles. Did he know he was behind him? Felix sniffed himself. Could he smell his perfume? Why the heck did even put perfume on in the first place?
They were back at the beginning of the Lyceum, where the six descending staircases from the main terminal converged at a wide landing. Felix stayed back, in the shadows, flat against the wall. Father Marshall Jones hobbled to the center of the landing, spun around. Did he know he was being followed?
No, Felix thought, as the priest took off into another tunnel. The geezer’s just lost. Or he just forgot to stop acting.
“Where’s everyone?” Father Jones’ voice echoed out of the tunnel he had disappeared down.
Felix scampered across the landing, to the edge of the tunnel. He saw the room that Father Jones was standing outside of. After he went in, Felix took out his journal and started towards the room, keeping to the shadows along the way.
“Where’s everyone?” Father Jones cried.
“Keep your voice down! What’s wrong with you?”
Isla Taggart. He could recognize that harpy’s voice anywhere.
“I have to be in Penance in an hour,” Father Jones shouted.
Isla groaned. Felix went flat against the wall. He heard her go to the doorway, saw her look out. Quietly, she shut the door.
“You need to… act together.” Isla said, her voice muffled.
He had to get closer if he was going to make out what they were saying. He crouched down, slid across the wall. His dress snagged on a bit of brick and ripped. No evidence, he thought, grabbing the shred and stuffing it into his pocket. No one can know I was here.
Isla went on. “They’re… everywhere… always listening.”
Holding his breath, Felix went down on all fours, crawled in front of the door, and reared up. He put his eye to the keyhole. The room was a classroom with ten or so desks. On the chalkboard, a smeared map of Penance had been drawn, and there were arrows pointing to the poorer parts of the city. Isla was standing at the professor’s podium, in a white burka that covered everything but her cleavage. Father Jones was slumped over one of the desks, looking at nothing but Isla’s cleavage.
Annoyed, Isla blew at the mesh covering that hid her face. “What took you so long?”
Father Jones grumbled, “It all looks the same down here. Why are you dressed like that?”
“With the Disciples of the Deep, we have a chance to finally enact some real changes. What am I wearing? I modeled it after clothes from the Old World. Women who wear these outfits won’t have to feel ashamed of their bodies if they don’t meet society’s standards of beauty.”
Father Jones leaned back in his seat. “Did you run out of fabric when it came to your chest?”
Isla gripped the side of the podium. “Does my acceptance of my body and sexuality bother you, priest?”
“No, just your confused message and the fact that, not forty-eight hours after your initiation into the upper ranks of us Winnowers’, you’re already trying to convert everyone to your worldview.”
“My worldview?” Isla scoffed. “I’m sorry, but is labeling not an abhorrent issue?”
“Ah, yes. But you’re telling me it’s okay to define others by their sex, gender, weight, eating habits, political views, and religious beliefs?”
Isla rolled her eyes as she said, “Don’t twist my words. I’m saying we should appreciate everyone’s unique and individual qualities, so we don’t trample on them.”
“Is that why you want the Disciples of the Deep to persecute homosexuals? And to have ugly women cover themselves? Or is it just ugly people in general?”
“I didn’t say every unique and individual quality was okay.” Isla bit her lip. “Don’t get high and mighty with me, priest. The places where you preach in Penance keep getting poorer and poorer, and yet you keep getting richer and richer.”
“I’m aware of my imperfections. I’m not so sure you are.” Father Jones held up his hand as Isla tried to snap back. “Why did you call me down here? If you wanted to waste my time with your Old World regurgitations, you could have waited until next week.”
“As I was saying,” Isla said through her teeth. Felix could tell it was taking everything she had to stop from biting the old geezer’s head off. “The Mother Abbess has eyes and ears everywhere. I invited a few others, but they didn’t make it, because they were suddenly sent away on urgent matters in Penance. I don’t think we’re going to get any more support, so we have to act fast.”
“What about those two survivors, those soldiers who came back from Geharra?”
Isla shook her head. “Untouchable. Word is the Mother Abbess is bringing them here, but that won’t be enough time to see if Alexander Blodworth truly converted them to our cause.”
Father Jones sighed and said, “Then we will have to be patient, and wait.”
“No.” Isla tore at the mesh that covered her face until she ripped a hole in it large enough she could slip her head through. “Stupid freaking dress. That’s better. No, no waiting. That’s all the Winnowers have been doing for years. Where has it gotten you?”
“Initiating you was a mistake.” Father Jones stood up, the bones in his legs cracking, one after the other. “The Mother Abbess wi
ll leave the Winnowers’ Chapter alone, like she always has, as long as she doesn’t think we are a threat. And right now? We’re not. No, Isla, we will wait. Alexander Blodworth murdered an entire city and let that pederast take the Holy Child into the South. Those terrible things will not have been for nothing. He bought us a lot of good will with King Edgar when he made those things happen. If we waste it, we are forsaken.”
Felix covered his mouth. Eldrus hired Alexander Blodworth to kill Geharra? And he’s the one that got Samuel Turov to take me? It all made sense, except for the part of how all this had happened behind Justine’s back. Why he hadn’t asked this earlier, he didn’t know, but at that moment, he looked to heaven and thought: Did Justine really not know what was going on?
Much to his surprise, not one second later, there was a response. It was god. God spoke to him in his own voice, and said: She did not know, my son. There are more devils than angels in this world, and most are indistinguishable from the other. This is why she needs you.
“It’s time to break her out,” Isla said.
Felix tore himself away from the dialogue with his maker. A mixture of happiness and anxiety left him feeling like he had water in his ears.
“Audra?” Father Jones whispered. “How?”
“The Holy Child has been visiting her.”
Father Jones gasped and said, “That’s interesting.”
“Someone gave him a key. I think we can all figure out who.”
“If the Mother Abbess is sending him in to talk to her, there’s a chance Audra’s already turned on us. It might be wiser to leave her in there to rot.”
“No. She’s our connection to King Edgar. If we have her, we have all the support we need. She just wants to be free. She will side with anyone to make that happen.”
Isla’s eyes wandered over to the door.
Felix pulled away from the keyhole. Did she see me? He crept back to the keyhole and saw that she was looking at Father Jones again.
