The Salbine Sisters (24 page)

Read The Salbine Sisters Online

Authors: Sarah Ettritch

Tags: #General Fiction

Maddy jumped and whimpered when Crandall touched her arm. Dismayed, Lillian rested her hand on Maddy’s clammy forehead. “He’s just tying a piece of cloth around it,” she said quietly.

Crandall tightened the strip of cloth, then straightened. He drew aside the cloth covering the tools and lifted his knife. The guards tightened their grips. As if sensing what was coming, Maddy’s body trembled. Her whispers resumed, the words running into each other. Lillian forced herself to turn toward Crandall and watched him touch the knife to Maddy’s skin. He cut.

Maddy’s whispers rose to agonized screams.

*****

 

Maddy turned toward the light visible in her peripheral vision, saw Lillian bent over a nearby table, her quill scratching the paper in front of her. “I’m alive!” she breathed.

Lillian twisted around. “Try not to sound so surprised.” She set down the quill and wiped her fingers on a cloth. “Let’s have a look at you.”

“Did you cut it off?” They must have. Maddy remembered the searing bite of pain before she passed out.

“We did.”

“I still feel like I have my hand.”

Lillian pressed her palm against Maddy’s forehead. “Do you mean you feel pain there?”

“Yes. And it’s painful here.” She went to touch the area that hurt, but stopped, afraid of what she’d feel.

“That’s where we cut. Crandall said you would be in pain, but with proper care, the pain should subside. How do you feel in general?”

“Tired.”

“Do you want to look? You’re bandaged, so you won’t see much, but—”

She shook her head. She wanted to, but didn’t want to. “Not yet.”

“I’ll brew a tea. It’ll help with the pain and soothe you to sleep.”

“I don’t need it to sleep.” She could already feel herself dropping off. “But I could use it for the pain.”

Lillian stroked Maddy’s hair. “I’ll be right back.”

Maddy closed her eyes. Her hand was gone, along with part of her arm. Forever. Not only could she not draw the elements, but she was less capable than the average child. What would she do with her life? She was—had been—right-handed. She was useless! Absolutely bloody useless! Yet she’d decided to put herself into this state, rather than die.

The decision must have come from her soul, because her mind didn’t understand it. Her previous struggle to accept her place in the Order would pale in comparison to the one she’d face now. Was Lillian the reason she’d clung to life? Would Lillian still want her? And if Maddy couldn’t reconcile her broken life with Salbine, would it be right to remain in the Order primarily because she loved a sister? Would it be right . . .

When Lillian was suddenly there with the tea, Maddy realized she must have dozed off. They both held the cup as Maddy lifted her head and drank down its contents. The silence and the dim light in the room told Maddy it was the middle of the night, yet Lillian had been awake, and the dark half-moons under her eyes suggested that she probably hadn’t slept since the procedure. “You look exhausted,” she said when Lillian took away the cup. “Get some sleep.”

“I have to change your bandages and apply a fresh poultice in about an hour. I’ll sleep after that.”

“Does it . . . look bad?”

Lillian shrugged. “No worse than other wounds. And Crandall used your own skin to cover it.”

“That was lucky, him being in Reedwick.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Lillian said firmly.

Maddy’s eyes slid shut as the tea took effect. Next time she opened them, light was streaming into the room. Lillian wasn’t at Maddy’s bedside, but Maddy could see her talking with Barnabus in the room across the hall. Lillian glanced over her shoulder and immediately broke off her conversation with Barnabus to come over to Maddy.

“Did you get any sleep?” Maddy asked.

“I certainly did. And you’ve been out for almost twelve hours.”

Twelve hours?

“How do you feel?”

Hungry! “I’d like something to eat.”

“And the pain?”

“Still there, but the tea did help.”

Lillian felt Maddy’s forehead. “How’s your head?”

“It feels a bit better than it did last time I woke.”

“Good. Let me change your bandages, and then we’ll see about getting you something to eat.”

Maddy stared straight ahead as Lillian worked on her arm, or what was left of it. “You’ll have to look sometime,” Lillian murmured.

“I’ll look when you’ve finished.”

Barnabus came in bearing a tray, but it didn’t hold food; it was a fresh poultice. Lillian accepted the tray with a nod of thanks and dismissed him, then finished dressing Maddy’s wound. “Let me capture my observations before I forget them.” She returned to the table and dipped a quill into the ink.

“You’re keeping notes?”

“Who knows, we might need them someday. Averill can add them to our collection.”

Thank goodness Maddy hadn’t imagined that Lillian was capturing her emotions or writing a love letter. She would have been crushed. Of course, she hadn’t imagined it because that wouldn’t have been Lillian.

While Lillian was preoccupied, Maddy forced her eyes to her right arm. She felt no emotion as she stared at the stump, but her stomach roiled, and she gave in to the compulsion to reach over with her left hand and feel where her right hand and lower arm would be. Then the panic started. It was gone—really gone. She couldn’t change her mind and get it back. Her body was irreversibly, fundamentally different, and so was her life.

“Are you all right?” Lillian asked quietly from the table.

“I don’t know.” Maddy started to lift her right arm, then covered her face with her left hand. “It’ll take some getting used to.”

“Of course it will.”

“Lillian, I know you’re trying to help, but I like it better when you’re being honest.”

Lillian rose and came over to peer down at Maddy. “I am being honest. It will take some getting used to.”

“Maybe it’s the way you said it, then, as if you know how this feels,” Maddy said, still resentful. “You don’t know what it feels like to look down and see half your arm gone. You sounded as if you were patting me on the head and telling me it’ll be all right in the morning. Don’t treat me like a child.”

Lillian folded her arms. “If you think I plan to coddle you, you can forget it. Enjoy your time in bed today, because tomorrow I’ll be walking you around this room.”

Maddy had always managed to use the chamber pot, but it was right next to the bed. She hadn’t walked much since she’d been burned. “Do you think I’ll be able to?”

“We didn’t cut off your legs!” Lillian exclaimed. “And I want you out of here as soon as possible. You’ve spent enough time in this prison already. Barnabus has found us temporary lodging in Reedwick. You’ll recuperate there. I’m hoping you’ll use the time to practice writing with your left hand. You’ll also want to learn to dress yourself.” She dropped her arms to her sides with an exasperated sigh. “Now, what do you want to eat?”

Duly humbled, Maddy drew the blanket up to her chin. “I think I can handle a bit of broth and bread. And some more of your tea, please. I feel a bit better than I did earlier, but I still need the tea.”

Lillian’s face softened and she knelt next to the bed. “Look at me, shouting at you. I’m sorry. I have to admit, yesterday was quite the experience. I don’t think I’ve quite settled down from it yet.”

“You did a brave thing,” Maddy said.

“I wasn’t the brave one. You were.”

“We both were, in different ways.”

“Sometimes you’re too kind, Maddy.” Lillian stared down at her hands.

“And you’re too hard on yourself.” Maddy wanted to touch her, but didn’t want to roll onto what was left of her right arm. “I’m afraid that saving me means you’ll have a love-struck sister on your hands, now,” she said, wanting to lighten the mood. “A one-armed, love-struck sister.”

“One and a half armed.” Lillian lifted her head. “And I certainly hope so.”

They smiled.

“Oh, I talked to the governor about the child and sent Barnabus after her,” Lillian said. “I’ll let him tell you about it while I prepare your tea and broth.” She gently touched Maddy’s cheek, then used the bed to push herself to her feet.

A minute later, Barnabus towered over her. “How are you today, Sister?”

“On the mend, thanks to you and everyone else.”

He nodded. “The mistress says you’d like to hear about the child. I went to see the lady the governor told us about, but the girl wasn’t there. After the governor dropped her off, she returned for one meal, but hasn’t been seen since.”

Maddy’s heart sank. She never would have sent Emmey away if she’d known that Lillian was so close! “She has to be in Reedwick.” And hopefully hadn’t met with trouble.

“If the lady sees the girl again, she’s promised to tell her that we’re looking for her.”

Realizing he must have visited the woman soon after the procedure, before knowing if Maddy would survive the night, she asked, “Who will she say is looking?”

“Friends of Sister Maddy.”

“Thank you, Barnabus. Would you mind shutting the door on your way out?”

“Not at all. I’ll visit with you later, Sister.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

After he’d gone, she threw the blanket aside and struggled to sit up, then drew a deep breath and swung her legs off the bed. Good, the pot was still nearby. Though her head floated and her legs trembled, she managed to reach and use it. Lillian just might walk her around this room tomorrow, especially since Maddy was determined to get back onto her feet as soon as possible. The sooner they moved to Reedwick, the sooner she could search for Emmey.

She’d just pulled the blanket over her legs when Lillian returned. “You’re sitting up!” Lillian exclaimed. “Good.” She set the tray on Maddy’s lap and turned to her notes.

“Lillian?”

“What?”

“Can you hold the tray for me? Otherwise it might slide.”

“Oh.” Lillian moved the chair to the bedside and held the tray. “When your, uh—” She gestured at Maddy’s right arm.

“Stump?”

“Yes. Perhaps when it’s healed, you’ll be able to use it to hold things in place.”

“Perhaps.” Right now, she didn’t even like to look at it; she hoped her revulsion would pass. That thing hanging next to her was still her arm. “Thank you for helping,” she said as she dipped the spoon into the broth, burning with shame. It hadn’t bothered her when Arthur and others helped her, but for some reason Lillian’s aid made her feel small and inadequate. She’d always been less capable than Lillian, and now the situation had worsened. Lillian might say she wanted a one and a half-armed sister following her around, but would that hold true when she realized that Maddy was a malflowed cripple half her age?

Did it matter? Her relationship with Lillian should be the least of her worries.

“Maddy, I have to tell you something,” Lillian said, her tone sombre.

She lowered the spoon. “What is it?”

“Sophia wants you back at Merrin. You’ll still go to Heath, but with a group.”

“I wasn’t expecting to carry on to Heath. She wouldn’t want you and Barnabus away for so long.” Maddy didn’t add that she wanted to find Emmey and take her home, which would have them travelling away from Heath anyway.

“There’s more.” Lillian met her eyes. “She said you have to remain in the Order, for your protection.”

Maddy rested the spoon in the bowl. “So I’m to leave one prison for another.”

“Is that how you see the monastery?” Lillian asked sadly.

Was it? Before her imprisonment, Maddy had wondered how she’d offended Salbine. Now that she’d lost her hand, she could no longer afford to spend time and energy trying to fathom the unfathomable, not if she hoped to adapt. From this point forward, she was either a sister, or she wasn’t. She’d left her home, joined the Order, and served in good faith. She didn’t understand why she was malflowed, or why she’d spent months in a cell and literally lost part of herself. Events since leaving Merrin had only deepened her initial confusion around her relationship with Salbine.

But through it all, she’d still prayed. She’d still desired Salbine’s approval. Despite her doubt, she’d still affirmed that she was a sister, when asked. She’d entertained the notion of leaving the Order, but had never truly seen herself outside it. The issue had never been that she didn’t want to serve, but that she didn’t know if Salbine wanted her service, or how to serve Her, if She did—an even greater problem now. If Maddy hoped to find her way, she had to start by accepting her place in the Order, despite doubting it. The word “faith” had always come easily, but she’d never understood what it demanded, until now. She closed her eyes.

Salbine, I can’t spend time wondering anymore, so I’ll just have to believe. You called me, and I came. I am a Salbine Sister. I’m Yours. I will discover how I’m to serve You, if it takes me the rest of my life.

Your will be done.

Maddy meant every word of her prayer. She wouldn’t rest until she discovered how to serve Salbine in her condition. The same key to that answer would unlock her purpose, the reason Salbine had called her to the Order but denied her the elements. There had to be a reason. There had to be.

She opened her eyes and picked up the spoon. “I’d like to find Emmey and take her home,” she said, ignoring Lillian’s question.

“The child could be anywhere.”

“She has to be in Reedwick.”

“If we find her, we’ll hire someone to take her home.”

“No. I promised I’d do it.” And Maddy wouldn’t be satisfied that Emmey had made it home unless she was with her. “She lives in Pinewood. That’s not too far out of our way.”

“Sophia was clear. She wants you back in Merrin.”

“Lillian, I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. If you’re not comfortable making a small detour, then don’t. Go back to Merrin. I’ll meet you there.”

Lillian barked a laugh. “If you honestly expect me to let you out of my sight before you’re back behind the monastery’s walls, you can forget it.”

“Then you’ll either come with me and Emmey, or you’ll have to sling me over your horse and listen to me whine the entire way home.”

Other books

Tonio by Jonathan Reeder
In Pursuit of Eliza Cynster by Stephanie Laurens
Bug Out by G. Allen Mercer
The Pinkerton Job by J. R. Roberts
Kiss Me Like You Mean It by Dr. David Clarke
When You Wish upon a Rat by Maureen McCarthy
The Bat Tattoo by Russell Hoban
Between Heaven and Earth by Eric Walters
Fugitive X by Gregg Rosenblum