CHAPTER 1 #3
Well, he could pass that test. He was an incredible liar now.
“Of course there are stories,” he said, “but why are we talking about Hreod stories in any context except their borderline personality disorders? The Northmen are red halite, it looks like blood, and it isn’t local to the area.
So people made up a story about how some Vikings came to attack the town and the Salt King turned them to salt, but it’s rubbish, of course it is.
The Northmen will have been imported from another salt mine because they’re pretty, but a story about the King and raiders is more fun than—you know, ‘We did a trade deal in the year nine seventy-whatever with Eric the Uninspiringly Bald, who did give us very reasonable prices.’”
“But,” Father Li said, “I don’t think Eric the Uninspiringly Bald is still in business.”
Avelyn waited to see if anything else was forthcoming, but it wasn’t. “Father, I’ve spent twelve years trying to convince you I understand that I was brought up in a cult. Can I ask why . . . you’re suddenly not so sure?”
Father Li dragged his hand over his face, and all at once, Avelyn realized it wasn’t a test.
“I’m sorry. I know,” Li said. “God knows I know, but—this morning, Matthew’s doctor in Chicago sent through the X-rays that showed his spine was irreparably damaged. I’ve spoken to her, and to his parents. He was in that chair for two years. It’s real.”
Avelyn stayed quiet. Before, he had felt like he was crouched behind a parapet, judging when and where to run to dodge all the arrows and javelins, but now that part of him was straightening up and peering over the battlements, just in case Li wasn’t trying to hit him after all.
“That boy was cured, and then he turned to salt. The Church is investigating it as a miracle.”
“What?” It came out with a lot more force than Avelyn ever would normally have used with Father Li, and he raised both hands to apologise while Li, at the same time, drew his through the air in a Don’t worry sign.
“Why in God’s name would it be a miracle?
That man is dead. Miracles are supposed to inspire joy and faith, not total bloody horror. We’re not in the Old Testament.”
“Except we . . . of course . . . are, a little bit.” Li coughed, as though he were having an allergic reaction to what he was about to say.
“The last time anyone turned to salt in a . . . in a documented way, was at . . .” Li gave Avelyn a look that begged him to understand without making anybody say it.
Li was a theologian, and like almost everyone with that training, he was loath to talk about the more mystical side of the Church with anything approaching literal thinking.
If you were a Catholic, and especially a priest, you could never outright deny that there were angels and demons and miracles because that was doctrine, but scholars sometimes sidled around this by saying, Yes, well, but not literally.
The Bible does say there was a lady who turned to salt once, but you see, “turn to salt” is probably just an ancient Hebrew way of saying she was frightened, in the same way that today, one might say that one freezes; one does not mean one literally grows icicles.
Which worked very well until some inconsiderate sod turned literally to salt.
It was one of the few points where the two of them differed.
Avelyn very extremely literally did believe in those things.
There was no doubt in his mind that there were demons.
He knew one well. He didn’t doubt, either, that long ago a woman had fled a burning city, looked back, and been turned to salt by what was besieging it.
“You mean,” he said, “that there might be an angel at Hreodwater.”
“Well.” Li coughed again. Avelyn wondered if he should be hunting around for some kind of theological EpiPen. “There are questions, anyway.”
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Whatever this is, is the opposite of a miracle. And whatever is down that mine, it is categorically not an angel.”
Li breathed in deep and slow. He clearly wanted to say that there was no Salt King, this wasn’t anything to do with Hreod stories, but the video was autoplaying again between them.
“That’s what we need to determine,” Li said, very softly. “You know what these investigations are for. Once we’ve ascertained it’s real, the question becomes whether it’s real and from God, or . . . real and not God.”
Avelyn nodded slightly. The verification of a miracle was a long process, and it was only the first step for the local bishop to confirm what had happened with witnesses and medical professionals. The next step was for the Vatican to send someone.
There were not many someones at the Vatican who spoke Hreod.
In fact, there was only one.
He dragged his eyes up to meet Li’s again.
Li looked wretched. “I’ve got to send you out there.”
The vow was: poverty, chastity, and obedience.
“Yes, Father,” he said.