Anais and the Broken War (The Blood Mage Chronicles Book 5) (19 page)

“Oh no. It’s like this every day. In an hour, we serve a meal for the poor. It will only get busier.” She looked at me in confusion. “Would you like to join us? All are welcome.”

“No, thank you,” I said, smiling tightly. “I’d like to speak with Mother Asher or Mother Mallay, if that would be possible.”

“Oh um,” the woman stumbled. “Lyza, would you mind if I left for a few minutes? This woman wants one of the mothers.”

My eyes widened as the plump girl sitting at the woman’s side turned and looked at me. She jumped from her seat and threw her arms around me, her dark blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders.
 

“Sister Lyza,” I said. “It’s good to see you.” Lyza had befriended me in an overwhelming fashion after my cloister in the Abbey in Barriershire, and I wasn’t sure if I was happy or not to have encountered her here. Although she was a nice girl who meant well, she had the definite habit of bombarding one with affection.

“I thought you were dead. I thought all the sisters in Barriershire were dead. Everyone is saying the whole city was taken.”

While she sobbed, she held me tighter. Everyone in the room was now staring at us, and I was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Lyza, could we take this somewhere else. People are looking.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll show you to Mother Mallay’s office. You don’t mind, do you Violet?” she asked the older woman at the table.

“Just go,” Violet hissed. “You are indeed making a scene.”

Lyza clung to me as we entered a hallway via a hidden door in the corner of the room. “After returning to Courtshire, I joined the order of charity. I live with my grandmother now and mostly act as her companion. However, twice a week I visit the Abbey to help with the midday meal for the poor. Although the path of love is the most popular choice here, a fair number of sisters follow the path of charity. Since I like helping people, I decided it was the right thing for me.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I murmured. The walls of the hallway we were navigating were transparent, and we could see into every room we passed. The rooms appeared to be an odd mixture of offices and bedrooms.

“What about you? Did you choose the path of light?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I did not.”

At that point, we stopped in front of an open door, but Lyza didn’t stop talking. “The path of charity then? Oh, that would be so grand. There are so many opportunities to do good work here.”

“I spent some time at the Arena, giving bread and succor to the prisoners for Sister Glaydias,” I said, neatly evading her question.

“Sister Glaydias must have been quite pleased with you, as I had heard that was quite an undesirable task.”

“It wasn’t so bad.”

 
“Sister Lyza,” an elderly woman with round glasses said as she joined us from inside the room. The walls of the room had been covered with paper, perhaps in an attempt to gain some privacy in this building of glass.

“Good afternoon, Mother Mallay. The midday meal preparations are going very smoothly.”

“That’s wonderful, dear. Who do you have here?”

“This is Sister Anais, from the Abbey in Barriershire. We were great friends. Isn’t it wonderful? She survived the attack.”

“It is indeed wonderful,” Mother Mallay agreed. “Now, perhaps you should return to the front room. Violet must have her hands full without you.”

“Of course. My thanks, Mother.”

“Peace be with you, child.”

With a gesture, Mother Mallay welcomed me into her office, which smelled richly of cinnamon. I looked at her desk and saw a steaming glass of tea and assumed that was the origin of the scent.

“I didn’t think I would see you quite so soon. But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Why don’t you take a seat, and we can discuss your situation.”

She pointed to two cushioned chairs sitting next to a table covered with assorted flowers, instead of to the chairs next to her desk. Did she want to make this an informal discussion? Or at least have it appear informal. I sank into one of the cushioned chairs, grateful to be off my feet.

“Mother Asher told me about your encounter at the party in the courtyard of Worthington Square,” she said as sat in the other chair.

“She was very kind.”
 

“I’m sure she was. I’d like to understand how you escaped Barriershire. Mother Asher was fuzzy on the details.”

I considered evading the question for I had become quite skilled at not answering people. But I wanted her help and would do my best to convince her I was worth helping.

“I was in the city…”

“But Lady Mediera and Cedric had already left for Courtshire,” she interrupted. “Why hadn’t you gone with them? You were Lady Mediera’s companion, weren’t you?”

“Along with Lady Mediera’s other companions, I chose to stay in Barriershire,” I said carefully.
 

“Then you should have returned to the Abbey,” she countered.

“Captain Carrenhail had closed the northern gate. Therefore, we could not leave the city.”

“Why? Why did you choose to stay in Barriershire?”

“For myself, I hoped to be of some assistance to the war effort.”

“What good could you possibly do? You’re not a soldier.”
 

“There are many roles to be played in a war. Women are needed to tend to the wounded and to feed the troops. We are not entirely useless during wartime.”

“An admirable point,” she conceded, her lip curling up in a half smile.
 

Keeping my face neutral, I nodded.
 

“How did you escape?” she asked.

“We were in town when the furies attacked. When the furies struck, I was separated from my fellow sisters in the chaos and encountered a young man I knew, an artist. He said he knew a way out of the city. So we left.”

“You abandoned your sisters?”

“Yes,” I admitted, my jaw tightening.
 

“I presume you thought you had little choice,” she said while nodding.

“I was afraid,” I admitted.

“Well, I suppose that’s fair. They say the furies are terrifying. How did you and the artist escape?”

“There’s a secret pass through the mountains. Fynn knew about it.”

She tapped her fingertips together. “I see. Well, I believe the gist of your story. It helps your case that Lord Thomas vouches for you. I can’t claim you’re an imposter, now can I?”

“Why would you wish to?” I asked her.

“And now we come to the crux of our problem.” Mother Mallay eyed me carefully. “Mother Asher can be impulsive. She told me that she offered you financial support.”

“She did say that. I had hoped…”

“I’m sure you did hope.”

I hadn’t brought up the subject of money, and it seemed unfair that I now found myself in a situation where I needed to defend myself.

“You’re young. We like to ensure that each of our sisters dedicate themselves to a path. Although we fully support your position as a companion to Lady Mediera, we cannot let you continue without following the dictates of the sisterhood.”

“I have a path,” I interrupted.

“Yes. Mother Asher said you claimed to be a member of the protectorate.”

“I told her that because it’s true,” I exclaimed, hating being forced into a defensive stance.
 

“So you say. But, we have little experience with that path. I can’t accept your word alone.”

“I see,” I said. Forcing a smile, I stood. “This conversation is over.”

“Wait, sit back down. I like to see a girl with a backbone. We can find a compromise. One of the previous mothers bequeathed me some candles. My understanding is that the only true way to prove oneself to be a protector is if you can light one. Although I’ve tried, with all manner of fire-producing devices, I’ve never lit the wick. I will offer you this, if you can light one these candles, well then, I will accept your word that you are one of the protectorate. If you cannot light one, you will enter one of our other orders.”

“That sounds fair,” I agreed and sank back down into my seat, perhaps too quickly. I hadn’t seen the candles after all.

She smiled widely. “Good. I appreciate that you are willing to be reasonable.”

She moved over to her desk and rummaged in one of her drawers, before pulling out a bundle of candles, and untying the twine that bound them. They were each of a different color but had the same waxy shine. “Do you have a preference?” she asked.

“I doubt it matters,” I replied.

She handed me one with a pale blue hue. As I stared at the wick, I plucked a tiny thread of energy from the blood coursing through my veins and directed it to twist around the wick, tighter and tighter, until the wick caught flame, shining a brilliant yellow. It was too easy; the candle did not even try to stop me.

Mother Mallay arched an eyebrow. “Well, it seems I misjudged the situation. I can’t argue with that little demonstration. I’ll have some clothes and personal effects wrapped up and sent to Lord Thomas’s residence. Do you think a stipend of two silver a week would be appropriate? The last sister in the protector’s path received that much. I checked the records after I spoke with Mother Asher.”
 

“You will not change your mind?” I asked her.

“How can I? You lit the candle. I won’t hinder you. The Seven Shires needs all the help it can get in these dark times.”

“Thank you.”

“I have one last question. If you truly are a protector, why did you flee Barriershire? Why didn’t you stay and fight? Protectors are supposed to defend the people. Aren’t they?”

“I tried,” I whispered.

“But you failed.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I failed.” I felt like I wanted to sink into the floor. Being a member of the protectorate wasn’t just about my freedom. There was a price to be paid.

Sophie squealed in delight as she sorted through the large trunk that had returned with me to the townhouse.

“There are so many pieces,” she said while holding up a silk chemise. “So fine. You shall be the best-dressed woman in the city.”

“Do you think you can pick out something in there for me to wear tonight–preferably something conservative? I’d rather not look like I’m flaunting myself.”
 

Sophie smiled. “Of course, madam.”

She plucked a dark plum colored gown out of the trunk. “This is pretty. It’s a little dated, but I think you’ll like it.”

The skirt was made of rich velvet, as were the sleeves that fell just past my wrists. The white cotton body of the dress possessed a neckline that would fall modestly to my collarbone. Relief flooded through me. At least there was one dress in the lot that wouldn’t make me look like I wasn’t trying to sell myself to the highest bidder.

“It won’t support a bustle, though. There’s not enough fabric in the back,” she mentioned as she examined the skirt.

“Perfect, for I have no intention of ever wearing one again.”

“I know, madam. You dislike the bustle, but it is in fashion.”

“I care little for that sort of thing, Sophie. This dress will do.”

After Sophie had dressed me, she brushed my hair and tied it into a neat knot at the back of my head.
 

“There were some small pieces of jewelry in one of the compartments of your trunk,” she suggested. “You need a little something to make you feel special.”

“I have something,” I said quickly, pulling the black rock necklace from under my feather mattress. Hiding trinkets under my bed seemed to be a habit I would never break.
 

“Perhaps something with some color.” Sophie frowned as I secured the necklace.

I waved my hand. “This is the only necklace I’m going to wear.”

In front of Sophie, I removed my sheathed blade from the same spot and quickly attached the weapon to my thigh. Not the most convenient location, considering the dress had no pockets I could cut out, but it would do.

Sophie looked at me in surprise. “Why do you have a knife?”

“One can never be too careful,” I said quickly, hoping she wasn’t much of a gossip.

After the bell for dinner tinkled, I hugged the little girl. “Thank you for helping me with the dress. Will you be eating with the staff?”
 

“Yes, madam. Our dinner will be served downstairs, but not until later. At the downstairs table, I have my own seat now.”
 

During my tenure in service in Brightshire, I had never advanced far enough to be granted my own seat at the servants’ dining table. If I had been a lady’s maid, I would have had one. But I had skipped from a scull, the lowliest servant, to a scribe’s assistant, with no time in the middle.

After I left Sophie, I took the stairs down to the first floor. I followed the hallway down to the end and turned into the formal dining room. A long table of shining red oak was laid out with empty dishes and polished silver. My stomach rumbled at the thought of food, and I wished there was at least bread to eat, as I wasn’t sure how long it would be before the meal was served. The only others in the room were Mediera and Cedric. Mediera jumped up and linked arms with me while Cedric sat at the table, clutching a glass of port.