Lillian’s heart skipped a beat when Maddy stopped in front of her, but then she read confusion in Maddy’s eyes. With a start, she realized that Maddy was wondering whether to curtsey. “Don’t,” Lillian quickly murmured, then felt the blood rush to her face when Maddy pecked her on the cheek. The sisters around them grew quiet and stared. She surveyed them in horror. “Don’t you all have somewhere else to go?” she bellowed. “Move!” They scurried away, whispering.
Maddy studied Lillian and bit her lip. “You know, if we were to go to your laboratory now, we wouldn’t need a torch or fire. Your face would light the way.”
“Oh, hush!” Lillian snapped. It was easy for Maddy to make light of it; nobody thought she was a foolish old woman who’d end up hurt and alone. Maddy’s friends and fellow initiates were probably wondering what Maddy was doing. “Have the other initiates said anything to you? About me?”
“Just a bit of teasing, nothing I can’t handle.”
“I don’t want to cause you any distress, Maddy.”
“Not seeing you would cause me more distress,” Maddy said, “and since everyone knows about us now, there’s no point acting as if we don’t matter to each other. Do you want to see what we’re working on?” she asked, effectively changing the subject.
“Yes.” Embroidery didn’t interest her, but Maddy did.
Maddy led Lillian into the common room, where a line of embroidery frames and accompanying stools stretched its length. She moved to a frame in the middle of the room. “This is mine.”
Lillian leaned in for a closer look at Maddy’s part of what would ultimately become a tapestry, once all the pieces were sewn together. “Lina, receiving the gift of water from Salbine.” Based on the images Lillian had glimpsed as she followed Maddy, she’d already deduced that the tapestry told the story of Lina’s banishment and survival. She peered at the gold-robed figure standing in the shadow of a red tree, a silver goblet lying on its side near her feet. Lina’s right arm was raised, her head tipped back; water flowed from her hand to her open mouth. Yes, to draw the elements was to drink the raw power, and refine it as it flowed within—reshaping, redirecting, and releasing it.
Lillian formed a fist with her right hand and held it over the tapestry. “You did the branches well,” she murmured, comparing the red branch on the back of her hand to those of the red tree. “Look at that exquisite stitching,” she added, not having a clue if the stitching was any good, but wanting to offer praise. “Exquisite,” she repeated solemnly. “Exquisite.”
“You think so?” Maddy said brightly.
“Oh, yes,” Lillian said, lowering her hand. “Wonderful.”
“You haven’t embroidered a thing in your life, have you.”
“What?”
“I was a bit sloppy here.” Maddy touched two of the branches. “I said to Mistress Bertha that the first thing I’ll have to do next time is pull out those stitches and do them again. I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy chatting to Nora.”
“I have to admit, I’m not an expert at embroidery,” Lillian said, hoping Maddy would never ask to embroider with her. “But your panel is certainly better than the one over there.”
“Where?” Maddy asked, then nodded when Lillian pointed to Lina receiving the gift of earth. “That’s Sister Gail’s. I don’t know why she volunteered for this. All she ever does is moan and groan about how bored she is. Here.” She grabbed Lillian’s hand and pulled her back to the frame nearest the door. “Lina telling the villagers about her vision of Salbine, just before they sentenced her to death. That’s Rose’s. And here’s Lina bound to the tree, surrounded by wild animals. Sister Pearl’s.” They moved to the next frame. “Salbine granting Lina the gift of fire. Sister Catherine’s.” Lillian noted the now red tree and the ring of fire keeping the animals at bay. “Lina receiving the gift of earth. Sister Gail’s. And then the gift of air. Sister Ivy’s. Then mine. Salbine’s command to establish the Order. Nora’s. The villagers the next morning, surprised to find her alive. Sister Amelia’s.”
“She should have burned the lot of them,” Lillian said.
“I think Salbine wanted Lina to tell them about Her gifts. Wasn’t that the point? To show them that Lina’s vision was true, that Salbine came to her and gave her what she needed to survive.”
“I’m sure they would have quickly grasped that point if she’d set them on fire.”
“But what would that have accomplished?” Maddy asked, moving to the next frame without waiting for an answer. She pointed to the half-embroidered figures sitting at Lina’s feet. “And finally, Lina establishes the Order and teaches those marked by Salbine how to use Salbine’s gifts. Sister Sadie’s.”
“As I said, I’m no expert at embroidery, but I do think your panel outshines the others.”
“Well, people do tell me I’m good at it,” Maddy said, her face flushed with pleasure, “and I do enjoy it. I’ve been asked to work on the cassock for the abbess’s fifth anniversary. I’m not completely hopeless, you know.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“I’ve only been here for the last three years of the abbess’s tenure, so I was quite pleased when Mistress Bertha put forward my name for the cassock.”
Lillian couldn’t believe Sophia had already been abbess for five years. She remembered when they’d first arrived at the monastery gates and gazed at the chapel in awe, relieved that their perilous journey was finally at an end. Their hunger and exhaustion hadn’t dampened their excitement; they’d raced onto the grounds and accosted poor Mistress Agnes, the first sister they encountered. That had led to a meeting with Abbess Margaret, a soft-spoken yet imposing woman who’d wrinkled her nose and ordered them to bathe. Neither guessed then that Sophia would become the next abbess, when Margaret went to Salbine twenty years later.
“Like you, the abbess joined the Order late,” she said. “She was twenty-five. You were—what, twenty-one?”
Twenty-one! What am I doing?
Whatever it was, she didn’t want to stop. “Most arrive around seventeen, eighteen. Was something holding you back?”
Maddy slipped her arm through Lillian’s. “Let’s talk outside. I only have about twenty minutes before my history lesson, and I want some fresh air.”
Not caring where they were as long as they were together, Lillian readily agreed, and they were soon strolling along one of the grounds’ numerous paths. “It wasn’t something that held me back,” Maddy said, picking up their conversation. “It was someone.”
“Oh.” Lillian hoped Maddy wouldn’t stop there.
“I would have come earlier, if not for her. As soon as I was sure I was marked and that Salbine was calling me, I wanted to join the Order.”
“But she didn’t?”
“No.”
Lillian had never understood those who chose to remain on the outside. Here, those marked by Salbine could not only receive Her gifts, but learn to read and study history, art, music, alchemy—just about anything that tickled one’s fancy. And all in the company of women dedicated to Salbine, if one desired such company. Why would anyone choose to remain illiterate and ignorant? “Why didn’t she want to join?”
Maddy took her time answering. “She didn’t feel called. And you do give up certain freedoms when you join the Order.”
“What do you give up?” Lillian retorted. “You can do anything here.”
“Yes, here, at the monastery. Where you answer to those above you. Where your relationships are limited to sisters. Where you exist to serve Salbine.”
“You’d rather be out there, waiting tables in some smelly tavern or hocking your wares at the market, or slaving away on a farm?”
“I grew up on a farm, Lillian.”
“Oh. Give me a moment to remove my foot.”
Maddy chuckled. “Joanna valued her independence.”
Joanna. Jealousy surged through Lillian. Silly, since Maddy was on
her
arm, but she couldn’t help it.
“I hoped that Salbine would call her, but She didn’t. I tried to tell myself that I could serve Salbine outside the Order, but Salbine’s call grew stronger.” Maddy paused. “Along with my unhappiness.”
“Did you love her?” Lillian asked, silently cursing the catch in her voice.
“Yes, I did, and leaving her wasn’t easy. The first few months here were rough. I missed her terribly and sometimes wondered if I’d made a mistake. But that tempered with time. I don’t wonder anymore. My place is here.”
“She might show up here one day.”
“She won’t,” Maddy said firmly. “She had absolutely no interest in joining the Order. If anything, she was dead set against it. And after I’d been here a year, I thought I’d write to her. Well, not to
her
, I sent it to the local tax collector so he could read it to her. Sounds silly now, but I wanted to let her know I wasn’t coming back, in case she was wondering.”
“That doesn’t sound silly,” Lillian said.
“It felt silly when I received her reply about her new lover,” Maddy said wryly.
“Oh.”
“To be honest, it was a bit of a relief. I could stop feeling guilty.” Maddy pulled on Lillian’s arm. “But what about you?” she said, her voice lifting.
Lillian swallowed. “What about me?”
“Has there ever been anyone special?”
She didn’t want to talk about Caroline, but if she said no, Maddy would wonder why someone her age had never had a relationship. Ha! Relationship! Could she call what she’d had with Caroline a relationship? She’d thought so, until time and the advantage of hindsight had forced her to face the truth. “There was someone, a long time ago.”
“What happened? Did you break her heart?”
What heart? “She left. For another monastery.” Lillian blinked back tears. Why, why did it still hurt so much? She’d meant nothing to Caroline. Nothing! Looking back on that part of her life filled her with sorrow, humiliation, and regret. When Caroline had breezed out the monastery gates without a backward glance, Lillian had realized how stupid she’d been and had promised herself that she’d never let anyone do that to her again. Yet here she was, acting like a lovesick girl with someone almost half her age. She must be bloody insane!
“I’m sorry, Lillian. I didn’t mean to pry.”
Lillian shook herself. Maybe she was making an arse of herself, but not because Maddy was using her. They’d agreed to be together, to see where their fledgling relationship led. She wouldn’t let Caroline poison this for her, too. “It’s all right,” she said, patting Maddy’s arm. “But if you don’t mind, I’d rather drop this subject.”
“Of course.” They walked in amiable silence, the birds twittering around them in the afternoon sun. “I suppose I should think about making my way to my lesson,” Maddy murmured.
“And I need to pop over to my laboratory. Then I think I’ll read a bit, save my energy for our lesson.”
“Will you be saving it for our lesson, or for what comes after?” Maddy said impishly.
Lillian grinned. “Don’t be cheeky!” She effortlessly formed a ball of fire in her left hand. “Look, we have to focus tonight. We’re not going to your chambers until you can do this.”
“What?”
“This.”
Maddy stopped walking and turned to look.
“You’ll be able to do it,” Lillian said, frowning at the concern etched on Maddy’s face. “You just need to apply yourself.” She broke the flow; the fireball winked out.
“I’ll try.” Maddy looped her hands around Lillian’s neck. “But it’s difficult to concentrate when you’re wondering if the tutor will end up in your chambers afterwards.”
“Well, you won’t have any excuses tonight, then, will you?” Lillian closed her eyes when Maddy’s lips touched hers.
*****
“Maddy!” a familiar voice called as she left the dining hall. She glanced over her shoulder, then stopped and waited until Rose caught up to her. “Are you all right? You were awfully quiet during supper.”
“I’m just trying to work something out.”
“What?”
Maddy’s first instinct was to say nothing, but maybe Rose could help put her mind at ease. “Listen, do you sense it when your tutor draws fire?”
Rose’s brows lifted. “Of course! Don’t you? And not just with Mistress Dorothy, with everyone. I sense it all the time now.”
“So do I. That’s why I’m asking,” Maddy said, lying through her teeth as her heart sank. “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to.”
“What do you and Mistress Lillian talk about during your lessons?” Rose said with a laugh. “Or should I ask? Mistress Dorothy warned me that once I was fully open to the elements, I’d sense when others drew nearby. Hasn’t Mistress Lillian said anything about it?”
“She might have said something early on, and I forgot.” Maddy’s mind raced. Lillian had spoken about it, and Maddy had sensed Lillian during her lessons and when she’d drawn air to subdue Merrin. But earlier, on the path, the sight of the fireball in Lillian’s hand had taken her completely by surprise. Lillian had drawn fire right next to her, but Maddy hadn’t sensed a thing! She hadn’t sensed anything that night in Lillian’s laboratory, either.
“At first, sensing everyone was terribly distracting in the training room. But I’m used to it now. I hardly notice it.” Rose squeezed Maddy’s arm. “Talk to the mistress. I’m sure she’ll explain it again.”
Maybe she
should
talk to Lillian. She’d failed miserably when trying to draw fire outside Lillian’s laboratory, making herself dizzy and nauseous in the process. Drawing the elements shouldn’t be that difficult—it didn’t seem to be for anyone else. Salbine knew she’d been distracted during her lessons; maybe she’d misunderstood a key concept or technique. She smiled weakly. “I will. Thank you.”
But later, on the way to the training room, her resolve to discuss her concerns with Lillian crumbled. Lillian would only be disappointed, or worse, blame herself for Maddy’s ineptitude. They’d both been distracted. Tonight, now that their relationship wasn’t tied so closely to Maddy’s lessons, things would be different. Lillian had already said they’d remain in the training room until Maddy could hold fire, so they’d both be motivated to focus and succeed.
Lillian was waiting for her. “Oh good, you’re here,” she said, smiling.
Despite her anxiety, Maddy returned her smile and pecked Lillian on the lips.