Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Lilith’s hands were icy cold when they gripped my arm with a gasp.
Pandorian spun on her heel, stating that she couldn’t reveal more and urging us to follow her to the sanctuary.
My throat constricted, and the only thing propelling me forward was Lilith’s touch entangled around my bicep.
I don’t know if I was holding her up or if she was doing so for me, but her presence was a comfort.
As Pandorian pulled ahead of us, tapping quietly down the stone hall, Lilith leaned in.
“You don’t think… what he said in confession… ”
“Don’t… don’t say that,” I whispered back.
Though the same fear was playing through my mind.
I hadn’t done enough, hadn’t acted quick enough on that horrid man’s confession.
My pride had stalled my action, my fear of revealing myself a wicked nun once more.
However, this time, it may have cost an innocent woman’s life.
“The children,” Lilith whispered, her voice cracking. “She has three children.”
My ribs tightened, threatening to choke every ounce of air out of me. We’d just seen her in the square. Happy, rested, joyful amongst her peers. What could have changed so quickly?
“Missing,” I replied, repeating Pandorian’s words. “Someone is only missing.”
“They fear the worst,” Lilith repeated. “Why?”
“I suppose we’re about to find out.”
Our sister ahead of us pushed open the tall double doors of the sanctuary, ushering us inside. Sounds of a woman’s sobs echoed from the altar where she knelt before a candle. Reverend Mother and Sister Delilyx knelt beside her, rubbing her back.
“She’s here,” Sister Pandorian announced quietly when we reached the end of the aisle.
The three women turned around. Reverend Mother, Sister Delilyx, and a tearful Iris Maison. “Sister Lilith, you’re here.” The woman wiped her eyes.
“Hello, Iris.” Sister Lilith was immediately by the woman’s side, holding her hand. “What troubles you?”
“Oh, it’s just so terrible, I can’t even speak it again.” The young mother sobbed, burying her face into Lilith’s shoulder.
Reverend Mother glanced up from where she rubbed the woman’s back and said evenly, “Mrs. Maison’s husband did not show up to work last night, nor did he return home this afternoon.”
Sister Delilyx added softly, “His coworkers believe him to be missing as no one can find him… however, they did find…”
Iris let out a loud sob into Sister Lilith’s chest. “Why would god do such a thing? Please, ask him to bring my husband back. You holy women speak directly with god, right? My children—oh, how would I tell them?”
Sister Lilith wrapped her arms around the woman and shushed her as if she were an infant. “It’s going to be alright,” she soothed, though her eyes were panicked when they reached mine.
“What did they find?” I asked.
Sister Pandorian knelt with them and caught my gaze, mouthing an undeniable word. “Blood.”
Just then, Father Benedict appeared from his office door to the side of the altar.
“My children,” he said, shuffling over in his white Mass robes.
“The men of Howl Moor have assembled a search party. In the meantime, our church doors will be open at all hours for residents who’d like to pray for Mr. Maison. ”
Reverend Mother gave the sobbing woman in Sister Lilith’s arms a gentle squeeze before standing. “Thank you, Father. Mrs. Maison may stay with us here so we may comfort her in the meantime.”
“No.” The priest shook his head and raised his wrinkled hands. “The young woman should wait at her marital home with her children and wait for her husband’s safe return.”
Veilentine’s lips thinned into a straight line, and she clutched her hands together beneath her long sleeves at her ribs.
It wasn’t often a priest disagreed with our prioress.
However, traveling priest or not, the loud mouth of the dumbest man would always trump the subtle and informed opinion of the most qualified woman.
I could hardly imagine Veilentine being married to a man like Father Benedict.
Well, my late husband, Bishop Killian, would have hated what I have become. He’d much prefer to be dictating my actions from his grave.
She’d said of him. How could anyone not be proud of the commanding and righteous woman she’d become?
I couldn’t fathom a life where she’d had her every move dictated.
Though she was quite a bit older than us other nuns were, by a good twenty or so years, and she’d surely been involved in churches like my last church and Sister Lilith’s current one.
Somehow, despite marrying and eventually being the widow of a bishop, she’d advanced on in her vows and become a prioress.
Leading her own convent. Albeit we were a very tiny one, we were all happy and safe.
That was an accomplishment in of itself.
Though she’d never receive the recognition she deserved, not within the church or outside its walls.
The ramblings of an old priest would forever carry more weight than the practiced knowledge of a reverend mother.
I watched as Sister Lilith stroked Iris’s hair as she cried, thinking the same of the bruised and distraught woman. She’d explained away his actions; it was just stress, she’d said. It would be overlooked as such, because who would hold a man accountable for his anger? Another man? Never.
Holy women or average women, our binds were the same. Men would come out on top every time.
Mr. Archie Maison would confess in a holy church he wanted to murder his wife and walk right out the door to go home, his burden lifted, his sins forgiven—meanwhile Iris Maison’s bruises would wash from purple to green to yellow and we’d all watch the progression Sunday after Sunday.
Only this week, Archie didn’t come home, did he?
Father Benedict mumbled about going outside to speak prayers over the search party as they gathered in the square and soon waddled away, hauling his hefty bible at his side as he did.
Sister Pandorian, Delilyx, and Reverend Mother and I drifted to the corner of the room in hushed tones.
Pandorian spoke first. “That fool is probably drunk in a ditch somewhere and upsetting his wife for no good reason.”
“Be that as it may,” Reverend Mother replied, “the man hasn’t been seen since confession.
” She glanced at me and my heart leapt into my throat.
Who’d seen him at confession other than Sister Lilith and me?
It wasn’t Father Benedict behind the shades of the booth, that’s for sure.
Veilentine had saw him in, but she hadn’t known we were the ones awaiting him, right?
Right. She would have undoubtedly said something if she’d known.
Sister Delilyx wrung her hands together. “I never know how to behave when someone cries. What should I do? I need to busy my hands… I know, I can bake and prepare food for her and her children. The last thing she’ll want to do is cook.”
“That’s a fine idea,” Reverend Mother replied. “You and Sister Pandorian see to her meals and house chores for the foreseeable future.”
“Yes, Reverend Mother,” they both agreed before departing to busy themselves.
When the sanctuary door clicked closed, I leaned in, smelling soil and the floral aroma of Veilentine’s garden on her skin. “You don’t think… you don’t think this has anything to do with… what I shared with you the other night, do you?”
With a flat expression, the nun tilted her head, leveling me with the same hazel gaze that had pummeled me dozens of times over in my stay at Altar Church.
“Not at all,” she said plainly. “You said that Iris Maison was in danger.” Veilentine gestured to the woman in a heap in Lilith’s lap in front of the altar. “As you can see, she is safe.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Reverend Mother turned on her heel, leaving me in silent question, and instead returned to the two women up front. “Iris,” Veilentine said softly. “Would you like Sister Lilith’s assistance with Archie Junior again this evening?”
“My friends Sandra and Clementine are staying with me tonight, until my husband comes home.” She sniffled. “But perhaps if… if tomorrow, if…”
“All is well, child,” Reverend Mother soothed. “We’ll be here for whatever you need. The church, and god’s love, are always available to you.”
“Thank you, thank you all so much. I should really get home in case he arrives and finds me gone.”
Sister Lilith helped her to stand. “Please take an umbrella by the door. It’s raining horribly.”
“Yes, it just started pouring as I… as I found the…” Sister Lilith held Iris’s hands. “How about I walk you home?”
“I’ll join you,” I volunteered, taking Iris’s other arm. Over my shoulder, I watched Reverend Mother stand in the center aisle, watching us leave with no further instruction.
The search party had just embarked when we entered town, the rain pelting our umbrella we huddled under. Iris looked to the forest where barking dogs sounded and men shouted, separating their parties to sweep larger portions of the dense woods. “You don’t believe the stories, do you, Sisters?”
“What stories?” Sister Lilith asked, wrapping her hands around Iris’s to help her steady the umbrella she clutched in the middle of our collective shivering.
“About monsters in the forest of Howl Moor. Some say our town was named after the calls of the beasts in the night. You know, there was one time. I was up late with the baby; I could have sworn I heard one…”
“No, that’s not—” Lilith began, but I interrupted her.
“What did it sound like?”
Iris turned to me, eyes wide and rubbed red with tears. “Howling… but not like a wolf… howling as such I’ve not heard before.” She shook her head. “I was very tired, though. It’s more than likely I dreamt the whole thing up. You don’t believe the beasts… got my husband, do you, Sister Jezebella?”
I shook my head. “Of course not. Maybe he only got lost on the trails. The men will find him.”