“It’s not just that,” she said, trying not to sound accusatory. “I find that, generally, the other acolytes have no interest in me. I’ve heard rumors that Brother SainClair has threatened them against befriending me. He hates me with a vehemence I don’t understand.”
I may as well use the Dominus’s personal interest to my benefit. He’s going to pry either way.
“Ah,” reflected Dominus Nikola. “Brother SainClair is of the opinion that there’s only one correct way. He looks at a mountain before him, and to him there is one path to the top. It’s so clearly emblazoned in his mind that he doesn’t understand why others might see one or many directions to the same place. It isn’t that the path he sees doesn’t exist. It does. He’s just incapable of recognizing the many different ways one can achieve the same goal.”
“And you believe many paths lead to the same place?”
“My child, there aren’t just many—there are an infinite number. We each travel our own path, no two exactly alike, and yet we’re often capable at arriving at our destination together. It’s a remarkable thing.”
“I take your meaning,” Mia said, then added, in a somewhat terser tone, “Then why not just tell Brother SainClair that he’s wrong and shortsighted?”
Dominus Nikola smiled softly at her. “Does he strike you as the type to take suggestions?”
She shook her head glumly. The Dominus reached over and patted her hand in a conciliatory fashion. “Just as he sees his own path,” he said, “he must walk along it and learn from its experiences on his own. Just as you must walk along yours and learn from your experiences. No one can tell Brother SainClair how to be, and no one can tell you how to be. You must both learn through your own actions and decisions.” He looked at her pointedly, his eyes sliding down to her neck and his mouth turning down in a slight frown. “Still, though, whatever emotions your presence may bring to light in him, it’s no justification for his actions.”
Mia reached up to touch her throat. It was warm and swollen under her hand. She had to know whether this ordeal was worth it. “Dominus,” she said, “have you any word about my father? I should very much like to know if he’s recovering.”
The Dominus shook his head as he looked at her gravely. “My child, we haven’t yet received news. The clerics attending to him are surely busy with their treatments and will send word when there is news one way or the other.”
Questions bubbled up in Mia’s mind, one after another. Had Father really sent the letter Dominus Nikola claimed? How many clerics had the Order sent to Father? What was this treatment supposed to be? What were the chances of it working? How long must she stay here? Would they be willing to apply the treatment to her if it turned out she also was infected? Her mind raced with all that she wanted to know, but what came tumbling from her lips in one long rambling mass of confusion was none of that.
“Brother SainClair says I’m a pretender, that I didn’t feel the call to the Order. This isn’t wrong. In fact, Father always taught me to mistrust the Order and the work it does. You must have known this. The letter was addressed to you, so he must know you. How? And why would he mistrust this place so greatly? Further, if you know he feels that way, why would you accept his daughter into your ranks? I don’t understand.” She shook her head slowly, still mulling over the questions herself.
Dominus Nikola smiled as her questions tumbled forth. “It is true that your father bears little love for the Order. It’s a very long story, one you deserve to know, but it must be reserved for another time. Trust me when I tell you that your father had very good reasons for sending you to us and that I have every confidence that your unique skills and spirit are greatly needed as we prepare for certain coming trials.” Suddenly his smile faded to a grim line, and his gray eyes appeared troubled.
Mia wanted to press him for further explanation, but he stood abruptly from his chair and turned to face the window.
“Ms. Jayne, this has been a good conversation. We’ll talk more when the time is right. I trust you can see your way back to your barracks without getting lost. I’m sure Brother Cornelius will be much relieved to find you intact.”
“Yes, Dominus,” she said. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, and thank you for intervening on my behalf with Brother SainClair.”
“He will eventually come around.” He turned back to look at her once again, his composure restored. His face resumed its serene smile.
Still disconcerted and very discombobulated, Mia smiled back and turned toward the alcove. She was almost to the stairs when Dominus Nikola stopped her.
“Ms. Jayne,” he called, “I believe you’ve forgotten your book on the families of the realm.”
Compendium! I almost left it behind without a second thought.
Her mind was still a jumble between Father and her conversation with the Dominus. She hurried back toward him as he held out the book to her.
“Best take good care of this,” he said.
Could he…?
She frowned, observing the glint in his eyes. She slid her fingers along the pages casually and peeked inside. It was still just a book of family trees.
“I shall,” she said. “Brother Cornelius would take no pleasure in any harm befalling one of the archival books, even if it’s an outdated volume on family histories.”
Dominus Nikola smiled softly and nodded. That glimpse of relief behind his veiled gray eyes flickered again.
He doesn’t believe a single word of what I’ve just said, but he isn’t going to take Compendium from me
. Mia stashed the book in her sash, bowed again, and departed down the stairs in haste before he changed his mind.
15
Retreat
Lumin Cycle 10152
“Blast
it all. I really need your help.”
Compendium stubbornly continued to display genealogical charts instead of Compound maps. Mia Jayne stuffed it back into her sash. No question she had been awake when Compendium had presented itself to her. It wasn’t just some crazed dream born of incarceration. She was sure of it.
“I’ll figure that damnable book out later,” she muttered, as she hurried along yet another identical corridor.
“Mia, is that you?” a soft voice asked, floating from behind her.
She stopped and turned on her heels. Taryn took double steps to catch up with her.
Where had she come from? And how was it that she never seemed to make any noise? It was unnerving.
“I’m lost per usual,” Mia said, flustered.
As Taryn approached closer, her eyes roamed over Mia’s dirt-covered clothing, her bruised neck, and what was probably a haggard face. Taryn drew a hand up to her chest in surprise.
“By the sacred elders, what happened? We waited for you last night. Finally we had to leave or risk missing it all. When we all returned, your bed was empty. No one knew where you were.” Taryn reached out, placed a hand on Mia’s upper arm, and squeezed it gently. “You look as if you lost a fight.”
“I did, and I didn’t,” she said, and grimaced. “Do you know where we are?”
Taryn looked at her oddly then nodded.
“I suspect I’m frightfully late for my duties, and I can’t go like this.”
“You are, and you can’t. When was the last time you ate? You look like you need some nourishment.” Taryn guided her along by the elbow.
Mia was relieved to no longer have to concentrate on directions. Eventually she would learn her way around here.
Then I’ll get the heck out!
“Now, please.” Taryn paused, and her eyes settled on Mia’s face. “Please tell me what happened.”
Mia felt an indescribable ease when she was with Taryn. The other acolyte emanated a deep calmness. It was like being with Dominus Nikola, only relaxing. She could talk to Taryn, who would listen without judgment.
“It was Brother SainClair.” Her jaw tightened as she recalled the experience.
“He did this to you?” Taryn’s gold eyes grew into round orbs lit within, and she shook her head slowly. “Even with all his gruff, I never would’ve thought him capable of that.”
“I was running an errand for Brother Cornelius, and I found myself lost in the lower corridors. Plainly directions aren’t my strength. I’m much better navigating a forest than a stone fortress.”
“I also feel most at home in the forest,” Taryn said. She patted Mia’s elbow again. “You’ll adjust to this place eventually. We all do.”
“Everyone says that,” she muttered, and told Taryn about Brother SainClair discovering her in the lower corridors. “The whole business was very weird. He was acting completely paranoid.”
Taryn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What could have made him think you’re a spy? I mean, are you?”
“No!” She uttered her response with unnecessary and probably damning force.
Taryn cleared her throat and gave Mia a pointed look before returning her gaze straight ahead. “We all have our reasons for being here. Some different from others.”
“Everyone knows I didn’t come here for the love of it. I only serve the Order so that my father can receive medical treatment.”
Taryn acknowledged her statement with a nod but didn’t speak.
“So Brother SainClair believes I must be spying for some other group.” She lowered her voice. “Who would even bother spying on the Order? It’s an out-of-touch, dusty, old fortress.”
“I suppose he could think you’re a Druid.”
“A Druid?” Mia mulled that over. “Aren’t Druids some sort of fairy story?”
Taryn laughed, producing a light tinkling sound, and slipped her arm into Mia’s, hooking it so they were elbow to elbow. Her grasp was surprisingly strong and equally unyielding, and its proximity suddenly felt a little intimidating. Mia fought the urge to wriggle free.
“Mia, you’re so wonderfully silly.”
Mia hardly thought so, but there was no point in trying to contradict the statement. It was just a fact that people in Willowslip assumed she was a total bumpkin. And she supposed she was about some things.
“So what did he do after he caught you?”
“I thought he was going to kill me, but he hauled me off to the brig for the night. It was filthy and horribly uncomfortable. This morning he marched me up to Dominus Nikola to plead his case.”
“Well, the Dominus must’ve believed you,” Taryn said, tilting her head. “Else you’d be in the dungeon now.”
“Apparently I’m not the only one who thinks Brother SainClair is prone to paranoid flights of fancy. Although I suspect it would have been a close call if Brother Cornelius hadn’t vouched for me.”
“I knew I liked Brother Cornelius,” Taryn said with a bright smile, and steered Mia down a corridor that she would have missed otherwise.
“I like him too,” she said. “Quite a lot actually.” She was surprised to hear herself say it and even more so to know it was true.
Mia
was more than a little embarrassed
by the state of her appearance in the looking glass and was glad Taryn had found her in the hallway and not Cedar. She never put too much stock in formalities, but she looked a fright, even by her standards. After bathing and combing out her hair, she put on a fresh set of smallclothes and her only spare robes. She would have to go sashless until she made it to the laundry. Perhaps a maintenance detail in the brig every once in a while would be a good idea. She donned her lapin bag and stuffed Compendium inside. She plaited her fiery hair into a long braid down her back. Strands here and there glinted in the dim light of the wash chamber, but the mass of it looked like wet blood. She took a deep breath and fought back the shiver that crept up her spine.
That’s appetizing.
Her face was pale and reflected a bluish cast, and the cold whiteness of her skin caused her blue-green eyes to pop more than usual. Dark smudges hugged the hollows under those eyes. She looked even less a person than usual, like a scrawny, pale creature dredged up from the bottom of the sea.
“Well, there’s no help for it,” she said, and hastened out of the room.
When she finally burst through the door of the Archives, Taryn was there, and the dear girl had brought her food. Brother Cornelius had placed the stew on a cake to keep it warm, and it was steaming gently, smelling fantastic, and waking Mia’s stomach from the deep slumber that had allowed her to get through the last eighteen hours.
“There she is,” he announced, beaming his usual smile in her direction. “I was overwrought.”
He clucked and fussed, and Mia smiled softly.
“I’m totally fine,” she said, brushing aside his concern. “Famished but fine.”
She sank into a chair at the reading table with Taryn and Brother Cornelius, filling the empty seat in front of the bowl of stew.
“You’ll pardon my less-than-exemplary manners,” she said through a mouthful of stew.
It was hearty and spicy and warmed her bones like it always did. Taryn watched serenely as Mia shoveled stew into her mouth and mopped drippings up with a piece of crusty bread.
“I was just telling Brother Cornelius about your awful night,” the girl said, and patted one of Brother Cornelius’s gnarled hands.
Apparently she wasn’t the only one Taryn was grabby with.
“Yes, yes. Ms. Windbough here was giving me the full details. Most perplexing that Brother SainClair would make such accusations. I should almost think a visit to the medical corridor might do him some good. If nothing else, perhaps he needs to rest up.” He looked at Mia’s neck and tilted her head up with a long finger. Disapproval flickered in his hazel eyes, which looked a pale green at that moment, as his throat clicked.
“I bruise easily,” Mia said, trying to minimize his worry. “’Tis been that way since birth. Father says I get it from my mother.”
“Still, there is no need for such behavior. We are a unit here. We are a family, and one does not harm one’s family.”
“I guess he doesn’t consider me family then.” She twisted her mouth and narrowed her eyes.
As much as she might enjoy being family to Brother Cornelius and maybe even Taryn, this place wasn’t her home, and these people weren’t her family. Perhaps Brother SainClair understood that better than the rest of them. Maybe he had sensed a truth that clung to her like the reek of sweat, as if he could smell a taint infecting his family, disrupting his quiet enjoyment.
Unsure why, Mia struggled with the thought that SainClair maybe was justified in his reactions. Perhaps it did matter that she didn’t care to join the Order, to make them her family. She had a family. No matter how small or how tenuous the link between her and Father grew, she had a family. Mia
was
a pretender, and perhaps that meant something, not just to SainClair but to her as well.
Brother Cornelius made a dismissive noise and waved his hand as if knocking aside the fog of her thoughts. “Poppycock,” he said.
“What time is it?” Taryn asked suddenly. “I’m most certainly late for my afternoon duties with Brother Valentine.” Her voice held a hint of panic.
“Nonsense,” said Brother Cornelius. “Just tell that old coot that you were assisting me with a particularly delicate matter and that if he needs more information, I’ve said to come speak to me directly. No one wants to bother coming here and having to deal with me. Outliving everyone has its advantages.”
“I can’t imagine why anyone doesn’t find your company utterly enchanting,” Taryn said, smiling coyly at Brother Cornelius.
“Don’t mock me now, my child,” he said, his neck reddening slightly under his voluminous whiskers. “Flattery is wasted on a codger like me.” He looked pleased nonetheless.
Mia rolled her eyes at the scene. Taryn bid her farewells and departed the library, leaving Mia and Brother Cornelius alone at last.
“Now,” he began, his tone turning serious, “what actually happened? I got the children’s fairy-tale version just now.”
Mia smiled at his pointed look and swallowed the bite of stew rolling around in her mouth. “First, let me say thank you for covering for me. I think Brother SainClair would have had my head on a stake if it weren’t for that.”
“’Tis fine,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss her thanks. “Do not try to distract me from the question,” he added.
“I was just curious about how this place works. I’ve never been in an electrical system this large before. It was just simple curiosity.” She took another bite of stew.
“Ah, well, a little curiosity now and then is a virtue, but I don’t suppose Brother SainClair sees it as such.”
“There was this amazing moss down there,” she said, eager to turn the conversation away from SainClair. “It covered the walls like a springy blanket. Is it used as camouflage?”
Brother Cornelius chuckled at her description. “It’s an insulator for the walls that lead toward the elders and has the lucky property of covering openings. ’Tis nothing so special really. Born of necessity, like much else in our world.” He rubbed his whiskered chin. “I suspect your poking around in that area would have aroused some suspicion in Brother SainClair, who’s mistrustful by nature. But still, his reaction seems entirely out of range, even for him.”
“That’s not all,” Mia said.
She wasn’t sure how much she should say about Compendium. She had genuine affection for Brother Cornelius. He was like the grandfather she might have had in another life, kind and doting and full of supremely interesting stories and bits of gossip. Her logical mind told her she was a fool for trusting anyone here, but her longing for someone to confide in and dote on her fought valiantly and ultimately landed the killing blow to caution.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say so at the time, but I took a book from the ancient texts.” She pulled Compendium from her bag and set it on the table.
Brother Cornelius picked up the book and examined it carefully. “You say you found this in the Archives?”
“Yes, a couple of weeks ago, while I was removing spores. It was one of the books I tested. It struck me at first because it was completely spore free. Something about it made me think I should spend more time with it. So I took it but neglected to say anything. I didn’t think you would mind, but I should have said something earlier.”
He cracked open the book and examined the pages and the binding, spending more time on the book itself than its contents.
“It’s in remarkable shape for a book from the ancient texts,” he finally said. “Perhaps it was just misfiled. It certainly is unusual. This scrollwork on the outside isn’t something one usually sees. What does this have to do with Brother SainClair and the incident?”
“Well, there are a couple of things,” Mia said. “Brother SainClair seemed enraged that I might be researching lineages. I found that reaction completely odd. He was especially derisive about my family name, Jayne.”
“Ah, well,” Brother Cornelius said, scratching a long bony finger across his chin whiskers in thought. “He himself has lost all his remaining family,” he continued. “And if I recall correctly, his sister’s name was Jayne. She was killed in the war.”