Chapter 21 #2
Lilith glided over, settling into the armchair next to me. There was plenty of room next to me on the loveseat, but I tried not to take her distance as a personal slight. We were, after all, in town. “Blessed flour and sugar?” I arched an eyebrow.
Sister Lilith smoothed the wrinkles of her black tunic over her knees. “Straight from the altar.” She smiled.
“Is that right?”
“That’s right, Sister Jezebella,” Sister Lilith said through a forced smile, glancing over at the woman humming in the kitchen as she prepared our confections. “And of course we threw out the old to make room for the new.”
“Of course.” I grinned. “It’s a shame because I really did enjoy the way they were before.”
“Oh,” Miss Honey called, creaking the oven door open.
“This won’t change the recipe at all. We’re simply using god-touched ingredients now.
Oh, heavens, I wish my late husband could have been here for this.
” She held her oven mitt to her chest with wrinkled hands, looking over by the fire at his worn leather shoes.
“Do you think he watches us from heaven, Sisters?”
Sister Lilith nodded. “He does, surely he is so pleased, Miss Honey.”
With a satisfied smile, the woman returned to the kitchen to check on her baking. I leaned back on the loveseat. “You know, only priests and clergy are allowed to make assurances like that.”
Lilith’s blue eyes widened slightly.
I lowered my voice, scooting closer to her chair, our knees touching slightly. “And claiming something is blessed from the altar?” I smirked. “Who’s the bad nun now?”
Lilith’s small rasp of a whisper was sexier than it should have been. “I think you know the answer to that, Sister.”
“Will you be helping Iris tonight?” I asked, glancing up to make sure Miss Honey was still working in the kitchen.
Lilith nodded. “Yes, I will be. I’ve got the magic baby touch it seems, and she’s been so distraught. I do hope her husband is found soon.”
“That poor man,” Miss Honey called out, surprising me that she could hear us.
Did she hear all of that? “Went to confession like any good Christian, then we assume he went home, least outside his door is where the blood was found. No sign of him though, well, except for the footsteps in the blood leading into the woods.”
Sister Lilith and I met eyes.
“Do you think…” I began, but trailed off.
Miss Honey pulled a steaming tray from the oven. To my surprise, the pleasant aroma of butter and berry wafted through the air. She set the tray on the coffee table and sat on the sofa, in the middle of Lilith and me. “You holy women don’t want to know what some old woman thinks of all this.”
“We do, though,” Sister Lilith urged. “Please, tell us. The bible says we are to learn from our elders and that the older women should mentor the younger. It’s part of why we come for these visits.” She smiled.
My eyebrows raised at her charm. Lilith could be sly, couldn’t she? Where would a nun learn such tactics, I wondered. Communication skills clearly weren’t on the Sunday School agenda at Damn-Damn Church.
With quick touches, Miss Honey pinched a scone onto a plate and passed one each to us.
We thanked her, and I skeptically eyed the treat, thinking the subject had passed us by, when the lady spoke.
“Quiet town, Howl Moor. Always has been, even since I was a little girl living in this very house.” Miss Honey’s gaze drifted wistfully around the room, scanning the wallpaper and lingering over the stone hearth.
“Takes a few days travel just to get up here. Depending on the season, a mule, maybe a hike, to make it up these mountain passes. Certain times of year make getting here impossible, ask Mr. Hutchins who handles to mail. A few years ago, we got those few light poles and cell towers put up. Not six months later, a storm knocked them out and no one’s come to fix them yet.
We live simply up here, sparse and seldom electricity and modest modern conveniences.
I’m sure it took you a while to get used to when you came, Sister Jezebella. ”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Not that my old convent offered much by way of modern niceties, but switching on a light switch in a dark hall would certainly feel like a luxury here. Though, I’m not complaining, I like it in Howl Moor. I like it a lot.”
Miss Honey nodded. “We all do. We’re a close community here. Folks seek us out for that simplicity that the larger world has forgotten. Though with our humble seclusion… well… it’s not only the lonely souls who come looking for safe haven.”
A pop from the fire startled Sister Lilith. “Do you mean to say that you believe the stories of monsters in the forest?”
“I reckon anyone that’s lived here long enough don’t just believe them, Sister. We’ve got our own stories. Hearing things, seeing figures, stuff going missing… though, I must say, it’s been a long time since a man has gone missing.”
I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Have you known of anyone going missing before?”
“George Dupre, the town postman before Mr. Hutchins and his wife took over. There was a late delivery. He went through the woods like always to fetch it… never came back.”
“Maybe he left town?” Lilith supplied. “He could have moved and not told anyone.”
“Leaving his wife and kids behind? Leaving his shop open and running and leaving a roast in the oven? I suppose it’s possible, but not likely.”
“No one ever found him?”
Miss Honey shook her head. “I suspect a similar fate for Archie Maison. My guess is he angered something out there… got on the wrong side of the beasts.”
Lilith shivered. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Surely there must be a more logical explanation than monsters grabbing men.” I countered.
“You believe in a god who created the world in seven days, do you not, Sister?” Miss Honey asked.
“I do.”
“You think you know all of what he created, do you?”
Only the cracks of the log on the fire answered in the silence. “Well—” Lilith broke the silence. “I’m starving.”
“Please, please!” Miss Honey smiled. “Let us try the first batch of blessed sweets.”
Hesitantly, I picked up my scone, not knowing if I could stomach the typical horrid taste of the old lady’s baking creations with the pit in my stomach.
Wincing, I took a bite. Blessed butter and sugar danced over my tongue.
The pop of blueberries was a welcome, tart surprise.
Lilith giggled, as if discovering the same thing at the same time as me.
“They’re delicious!” she said in triumph more than compliment, but Miss Honey didn’t seem to notice.
“Thank you, dear sisters, for this marvelous gift.” After taking a thoughtful nibble of her scone, she leaned in closer towards my face. I backed away a bit on instinct, but the old woman only squinted, searching my eyes. “Your aura is brighter, dear.”
“My aura?” I questioned.
“Your color.” She smiled, setting her dish on the coffee table. “Everyone has one. Yours was quite faded when you first arrived. Though now, these past weeks especially, it’s nice to see it deepen.” She glanced knowingly at Sister Lilith. “Glory be to god, right, Sisters?”
Lilith coughed, clearing her throat. “Yes, glory be to god in his highest. We should be going?” she said in my direction, brushing the crumbs from her lap.
“That we shall.” I stood. “The elderly won’t bless themselves, now, will they?”
Miss Honey chuckled, standing and outstretching her arms. “May I have a hug, Sister? Is that all right?”
“Of course.” I leaned down, accepting her embrace as Sister Lilith cleared the dishware and took them to the sink.
Miss Honey pulled me down, pressing her cheek to mine, and startled me with a low whisper. “Beware the solemn woman, sometimes she is death in a veil.”
When she released her hug, her eyes searched mine for a short moment before her typical smile returned. “Next week, I’ll use my new goods to make lemon bars.”
Chills pricked the back of my neck long after Sister Lilith and I had closed the yellow door to Miss Honey’s. Standing aimlessly on her porch, I rubbed my arms against the chilly air, watching my breath puff out in tiny plumes of fog.
“Are you okay?” Sister Lilith asked, swaying at the bottom of the stairs and looking up at me like an angel in black and white within the mists of the moors.
“Was it a terrible sin that I lied about the flour and sugar being blessed so I could toss out her rancid supply? If you need to report my misjudgment to Reverend Mother, I understand.”
A half chuckle warmed my throat. “I’d forgotten all about that, but now that you mention it, I’ll send you to Reverend Mother for lashings at once.”
Lilith’s eyes widened a fraction.
“I’m joking,” I added with a smirk, stepping down two steps.
“This morning a priest told me I had an interesting soul, and not in a good way. This afternoon, an elder woman said my spirit’s color is brighter.
” I shook my head. “And a man is missing, the town is distraught, and all I can think about is how you haven’t been in your bed next to mine for five nights. ”
A whiff of air plumed from Lilith’s lips as she broke eye contact to look down at her feet. “Reverend Mother said to check with Mr. Hutchins while I was in town today.”
“For what reason?”
“A letter has come for me.”
“A letter from who?”
“The Abbey of Silent Damnation… my prioress, I presume. Reverend Mother Marque.”
I stepped down another step, feeling my heart drop with me. “Are they calling you home? But… you only just arrived.”
“It’s been two weeks… and perhaps. Though, I have yet to mail my own letter to them to tell them of my stay and of our ministry time here in Howl Moor.”
As I descended the last step, I looked into Lilith’s averting gaze. “Why haven’t you written them?”
The nun reached into her pocket, fiddling around for a mystery lock that was no longer there. “I suppose I… haven’t found the time. Now I wonder if… if they’ve heard of the recent town’s happenings and are concerned.”
“So what if they are? It’s not like we can help it. Bad things happen everywhere.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Help me understand, then.”
Lilith let out a frustrated sigh and took a small step back.
“The Abbey of Silent Damnation is not a church like yours. My town of Glumhaven may be brighter in atmosphere, but it is darker in every other way, monsters in Howl Moor’s woods or not.
They do not allow other thoughts than the ones they ordain as righteous.
Should they believe ill of Altar Church, they would surely seek to impose penance. ”
“Penance? Who would pay that price?”
Lilith lifted a shoulder. “Whoever they saw fit and unworthy of absolution.”
“Sounds like you know a lot about that.” I stepped forward. “Is that why you are so afraid?”
Sister Lilith stepped backward. “Who says I’m afraid? I am here to do the lord’s work. If god has called me back… then it is his will.”
My chest burned slightly at that. “Try saying that again, and this time as if you actually believe it, Sister Lilith.”
“Excuse me, Sister Jezebella?”
“What is the lock for?”
Sister Lilith turned on her heel. “I don’t have time for your foolish games.”
Charging after her, we tapped down the rain-wet cobblestone. “Why did you turn white as a ghost when we saw the rock on the top of the mountain?”
“You’d do better to worry about your own affairs—”
“Why were you naked and swimming in the lake that day we met?”
“Why were you? Why are you here, Sister Jezebella? And why do you insist on tormenting me so? Can’t you just leave me be?”
My pace halted, only a puddle on the dip of street between us. “Is that what you want?”
“I think it would be best.”
“But is it what you want, Lilith? After all of our… prayers. Do you want me to stop… this?”
She swallowed, sucking in a breath and nodding thinly. “What we have done goes against our vows.”
“That depends on how you look at them.”
“No, it doesn’t. The word of god is clear about what we’re doing—”
Fisting my palms at my side, I kicked the puddle, splashing both the bottoms of our black tunics. “I don’t give a fuck about what the word of god says about us.”
Lilith’s chest heaved with every emotion that danced across her too-perfect face. Anger, loss, frustration, desire… Finally, choosing one to act on, she shook her head. “You are a bad nun, Sister Jezebella, and I’ll hear no more blasphemy from your demon lips.”
“Go get your letter then, leave, run away, I don’t care.” The hem of my tunic drenched through the muddy water as I breezed past her, not able to meet the blue that looked at me and pricked with tears of quiet sorrow.
Those eyes.
That girl.
The nun.
Angel eyes.