Chapter 8 #2
I shook my head. “No, my home church, Communion of Hope’s Blood … They sent me here.”
“Why?”
“Why did yours?”
Lilith pulled her inquisitive blue gaze from mine and back to the path. Wordlessly, our whys hung in the misty air.
“Is it true that Reverend Mother Veilentine was once married?” Lilith asked after a moment.
The question tripped under me along with a stone at my toes. Sister Lilith grabbed my elbow to steady me. “Are you alright?”
Steadying myself, I brushed off my surprise. “What makes you ask that?”
“I heard Prioress Lamia discussing it in her study with our vicar before our meeting. I overheard them right before they told me I’d be sent here for a spell.
Do you not know of it? Is it not part of her testimony?
To go from a bishop’s wife to a reverend mother is not common…
the lord has blessed her tenfold for her obedience. ”
Obedience.
Wasn’t that the word of the day?
“She has never mentioned it,” I said after a moment. “In fact, I don’t know much about her at all, if I’m honest.”
“Even after your private meetings?” My heart sank into my feet and I stopped, almost tripping over my long tunic. Sister Lilith turned. “Which house is Miss Honey’s?”
“How did you know of Reverend Mother’s and my private… prayers?”
Sister Lilith raised an eyebrow. “I’m an early riser… I saw you both coming out of the sanctuary early this morning before convent prayers. I didn’t know it was a secret.”
“It’s not a secret.”
“Then why are you acting surprised?”
“Do you pry into the inner workings of every abbey you visit, Sister Lilith? Or is Sister Pandorian correct in her assessment that your impropriety is what’s caused your home church to need a break from you?”
Sister Lilith flinched slightly, and I instantly regretted the bite of my defensive tone. She was new, just like I’d been, and she had a lot of questions—just like I had… just like I still did.
Tilting her chin up, Sister Lilith reached into the pocket of her robe and fidgeted with something, probably prayer beads or a crucifix, before painting on a practiced face of passivity.
“My mistake, then. I believed you to be my guide during my stay here. Clearly, you’re still merely the demon I met in the lake.
” She brushed past me, entering town on her own as if she knew where she was going, when obviously she didn’t.
“Miss Honey’s is the yellow door down that way—”
“Good afternoon, Sisters,” Mr. Hutchins waved as he swept the stoop of the quaint post office he managed. Who’d bother to send letters to the dreary likes of Howl Moor, I had no idea. The old man never seemed too busy to stand outside and sweep while chatting with passerby.
I waved back. “Hello, Mr. Hutchins. How is Marge feeling?”
“Oh, her cold is long gone after that flowery concoction Reverend Mother gave her last week. Tell her we’ll have four fresh loaves of bread to give her at Mass on Sunday to express our gratitude.”
“I’m glad to hear that your wife is healed.” I smiled back. “I’ll let Reverend Mother know.”
“God is good.” Sister Lilith bowed.
Mr. Hutchins and I glanced at her and then at each other for a brief moment, sharing something of an awkward smile. “Well, I best get back to the post. These letters won’t mail themselves. Have a nice day, Sisters.”
“You, too.” I elbowed Sister Lilith. “God is good?”
She furrowed her brow and crossed her arms. “Well, isn’t he?”
“Probably not so much to an atheist like Mr. Hutchins.”
“What?” Sister Lilith screeched. “You convene with non-Christians? Lend them medicine and visit with them?”
“Didn’t jesus himself do the same? Didn’t you serve everyone regardless of their religion back at the Damned to Hell Church?”
Sister Lilith glanced around, as if to see if anyone noticed her cheeks growing red as she clutched her fists at her side. “The Abbey of Silent Damnation,” she whisper-hissed. “And no, we only served our church family. I thought that’s what all nuns did.”
“Mr. Hutchins and his wife come to Mass almost every Sunday. It doesn’t matter what he believes in or doesn’t.” I shrugged a shoulder. “We’re nice to everyone.”
“Nice to everyone but me,” Sister Lilith muttered.
I glided past her, spinning on my heel and quirking my lips into a smile. “Well, maybe if you convert to atheism, like the Hutchins, you’ll be more likable. Oh, and learn to bake sourdough. I love a good, warm slice of sourdough with butter, yum.”
Sister Lilith huffed and shook her head, following after me. “Bite your tongue, Sister Jezebella. You are the oddest nun I have ever met.”
“I thought I was a demon?” I asked, stopping outside Miss Honey’s. “Now, whatever you do, don’t mention the saltiness.”
“The what?”
A short woman with ringlet grey curls opened the door before I knocked. “Sister Jezebella, I was wondering when you would be visiting me today.”
“It’s great to see you, Miss Honey. I’ve brought Sister Lilith with me today. She’s here visiting Howl Moor from The Church of the Dreaded and the Damned.”
The look of annoyance and indignation that flashed across Sister Lilith’s face pushed a small giggle from my throat.
“Oh, dear.” Miss Honey shook her head and wrapped an arm around Sister Lilith’s waist. “Some of these neighboring churches sound downright frightening. Who was ever in charge of naming such a place, anyway?”
I shrugged. “Some old, dead man, I presume.”
“Always is.” Miss Honey pursed her lips. “Well, you two come have a seat. Your treats are just fresh out of the oven.”
I pulled out a chair at the small breakfast table for Sister Lilith and took my seat beside her.
Miss Honey sat a tray of lumpy flour in front of us before taking her seat.
“Is there anything we can do to serve you today, Miss Honey?” Lilith asked after a moment.
Her blue eyes twinkled and her tone was that of sincerity.
I’d wager Miss Honey could have asked her to clean the gutters and Sister Lilith would have gone out back hunting for a ladder—and have been pleased to do so. Something in my chest warmed at that.
“Oh, no, dear. You relax and enjoy what I’ve cooked for you. You ladies work so hard every day, you deserve an easy house visit.” Miss Honey beamed, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
I placed a gentle hand on Sister Lilith’s arm.
“There’s no use. This lady insists we do nothing but eat in her presence.
Too self-sufficient for your own good.” I winked at our host. A small fire crackled at her modest hearth where a pair of large, worn leather boots sat, as if a man had just kicked them off for the day.
The same place every visit; the shoes never moved.
Something in my heart twinged at the sight of them each time.
Sister Lilith plucked a patty from the pile and gave us an unsure smile. “I suppose we eat, then.” She took a big bite, too big of a bite, and coughed. “So… salty…” she managed, tears pricking her eyes.
Miss Honey hurried to stand. “Oh, dear, Sister, let me get you some water. What was it you said? My hearing isn’t the best nowadays.”
“Salt,” I whispered. “I told you don’t mention the salt.”
Sister Lilith nodded, drying her eyes. “I said, so yummy. I apologize, Miss Honey, I’ve had a tickle in my throat for the past week.”
Our host handed Sister Lilith a glass of water, which she drank heartily. I pushed down a laugh.
“We should probably get going,” I announced after some more idle chatter. “Thank you for your hospitality, as always.”
“It’s no trouble, dears. Same time next week?”
“Of course.” I smiled, pulling Sister Lilith to stand. “We’ll look forward to it. Won’t we, Sister?”
Still rattling through a small cough, my fellow nun agreed. “Oh yes, certainly. It was lovely meeting you.”
“I’ll see you both at church on Sunday,” Miss Honey said brightly, clearing our plates as we departed.
Once we were safely on the cobblestone streets, Sister Lilith stuck out her tongue. “Look at it,” she said through gargled speech. “Is it still there or did the salty horror of whatever that treat was burn it off?”
A laugh shook my shoulders, and I clutched my ribs, trying to contain it.
“I’m glad this is so funny to you, Sister Jezebella. Why do you allow her to feed you such things? Does no one tell her that her patties are horrible? Her flour must be rancid.” Sister Lilith wiped her tongue with the sleeve of her tunic as more laughter rolled through me.
Several townsfolk smiled at us as they passed, curious looks on their faces as to what could humor a nun into clutching her sides. I was sure we were a sight to behold in such a state. Me in a fit of guffawing and Lilith wiping her tongue like a cat licking its paws.
“Follow me.” I looped my elbow with hers. “There’s only one thing that’ll get the taste out.”
“It’ll have to be either the holy waters of god or the burning fires of hell,” she said sincerely as I pulled her down a long alley.
Another laugh echoed through me, following us before I stopped outside a small wooden window. “How about both?” I asked. As she looked up at me bewildered, I knocked four times against the wood, paused, then knocked five more times.
Sister Lilith crossed her arms and looked up and down the narrow, vacant backstreet. “This does not seem a place fit for women of god.”
“Oh, I agree. Let’s go get naked and swim in the lake. That’s much more appropriate for women of god.” I quirked a grin at her answering blush. “It’s like you forget what happened between us, Sister Lilith.”
My companion opened her mouth to respond, but was cut short by the wooden window flinging open. Sounds of merriment and music rattled into the alleyway with a stream of warm light and an acidic aroma. “Sister Jezebella,” a woman’s hearty voice crooned. “The usual?”
“Make it two, please.” I smiled. “Thanks, Batilda.”
With a rosy grin, the barkeep threw a towel over her muscular shoulder and slid two cold pints in front of us. “Who’s the new girl?”