The Salbine Sisters (16 page)

Maddy eyed the torch. She hadn’t tried to draw the elements since that terrible episode in the training room. The abbess had said the elements would be closed to her, but how could she be certain? They knew so little about the malflowed condition.
If you try to draw and an element does flow, it would be dangerous for you, Maddy.
But if she didn’t try, they’d hang her, and probably Jonathan. Could this be a test of faith? Had Salbine deliberately brought her to this point? If Maddy trusted Her and tried to draw, would She bestow Her gifts?

Maddy lowered her head and ignored the titters from those who presumed she was play-acting.
Salbine, I don’t know why You’ve denied me Your gifts. Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps You never called me, yet I entered Your home and robed myself. If I die now, I’ll never know what I did to offend You, never be able to make amends. I want to continue my journey in Your realm, Salbine, not in the realm of the godless. Please, let me draw, just this once. You know I am innocent. Please help me. Please, Salbine. Help me.

She raised her head, drew a deep breath, and reached inside herself. To her surprise, she sensed fire—the elements weren’t closed to her! She beckoned to it, reached for it, touched—pain! The most intense pain she’d ever felt ripped through her, driving her to her knees. She doubled over, hugged herself. “Salbine,” she gasped, “Salbine, have mercy.” Then every inch of her body was on fire, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Maddy threw back her head and opened her mouth to scream.

Flame shot from her lips.

From somewhere far away came screams and shouts of “Salbine preserve us!” and “It’s the judgement of Salbine!” Shadows moved through the haze of pain; the ground under Maddy vibrated, every jolt intensifying her agony. She fell onto her side, rolled back and forth, tried to put out the fire. “Salbine, have mercy, have mercy,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She clawed at her face; her fingers sank into charred flesh.

Lillian’s voice rang in her memory.
Maddy, stop drawing! Maddy, stop. STOP!
Yes, perhaps pushing back fire would end her pain, but how? The fire was out of control. Or was it? She gritted her teeth, tried to calm herself so she could think through the agony. Hadn’t she emerged whole the last time? The fire had felt as real as it did now, but it had all been in her mind, like that sister who’d thought she was encased in ice. She wasn’t on fire! It wasn’t raging out of control! Perhaps simply cutting the flow as Lillian had taught her would end it.

Struggling to concentrate, she clenched her jaw, turned inward, and pushed the fire back to its source—the inner fire, not the imaginary fire that consumed her body. Suddenly the pain stopped. The meeting room swam into focus. The nausea hit and her body convulsed. She tried to choke back the bile, but then forced herself to a sitting position and turned to her side so she wouldn’t soil herself. When the heaving stopped, she raised her head. The room was in pandemonium, shouts ringing out as townsfolk fearing for their lives crowded the doorway, desperate to get out. Dizziness forced her back to a prone position.

Wheeler cautiously approached and nudged her with his foot. “She’s alive.” Langston hovered a short distance behind him. The clink of armour alerted her to the other guardsmen curiously peering at her, along with a couple of brave townsfolk.

“Have you ever seen anything like that?” Langston said. “Salbine Herself passed judgement.” He lowered his head and murmured under his breath.

“He’s gone!” someone shouted. “The bastard’s gone!”

Langston and Wheeler turned toward the voice, brows raised in query.

“Jonathan, or whatever his name really was. Must have slipped away during the commotion.”

Still on the floor, Maddy turned her head to look, then curled up as a wave of nausea roiled through her.
Run, Jonathan. Make it back to Merrin and tell Lillian what happened, that I didn’t abandon her.
She should have told Lillian that she loved her. Now Lillian would never know.

“Park, go outside and look for him. Get the folk to help you. They’ll want his blood. And send someone to let the other guardsmen know. I want him found!” Wheeler leaned over Maddy, his rapid breaths whistling through his nostrils. “What should we do with her?”

Langston spoke, sounding closer than he had before. “Salbine punished her, but spared her life. I won’t go against Her will.” He snapped his fingers. “On your feet!”

It took Maddy a moment to realize he was talking to her. She slowly uncurled, tried to push herself up, but nausea racked her and she started to heave.

“What a mess,” Langston muttered. “You two, get her on her feet!”

Guardsmen gripped her arms and hauled her upright. She hung between them, unable to lift her head. If they let her go, she’d drop to the floor.

“Look at me!” Langston ordered. When she didn’t comply, someone grasped her hair from behind and pulled her head back. Langston towered over her, his face moving in and out of focus. “I would have hanged you, but Salbine is merciful. Instead, you will have the rest of your life to contemplate your wickedness. From here, you will be taken to Dunmurk Prison, where you will live out the rest of your days. Salbine have mercy on you.”

Her nausea and pounding head prevented Maddy from caring. She closed her eyes and swallowed bile.

“Bring round the wagon and fetch the irons,” Wheeler barked, presumably to another guardsman.

It felt as if an eternity had passed by the time a guardsman grabbed one of her hands and pulled her arm forward, his gauntlet scratching her palm. He clamped an iron around her wrist, then did the same to her other wrist. The chain connecting the two irons slapped against her stomach. “Get her out of my sight,” Langston said.

Wheeler took the lead. The two guardsmen supporting Maddy dragged her forward. “Walk, you stupid bitch!” one growled, delivering a sharp kick to the back of her leg for encouragement. She tried, but her legs were jelly, likely hindering more than helping her mobility.

Wheeler threw open the town hall’s doors. A tremendous roar set Maddy’s heart racing.

“She’s alive!”

“Salbine preserve us!”

Townsfolk jostled for a closer look as the guardsmen dragged Maddy through the mob.

“She should be hanged!” someone screeched.

“Murderer!”

Spittle hit Maddy’s cheek. “Hey, watch your aim!” the guardsman on her left shouted.

Someone lunged, grabbed the chain connecting the irons and tried to pull her into the throng. Wheeler turned and pushed the man away. “Almost there, boys,” he said.

More guardsmen waited near the wagon. They formed a barrier as the two who’d supported Maddy lifted her inside and dropped her onto the bench, not minding how she landed. Pain stabbed through her left leg, momentarily overwhelming the nausea. Armour clinked next to her as guardsmen sat. The door thudded shut. A guardsman pounded on the wagon’s roof.

Maddy’s stomach lurched along with the wagon when it moved forward. She covered her ears to block out the shouts and the incessant banging on the wagon’s heavy wooden sides.

“Murderer!”

“The bitch should hang!”

“Salbine has forsaken you! Salbine has forsaken you!”

Salbine has forsaken you!

She passed out.

M
addy opened her eyes and blinked into the sun, confused and . . . wet? A shadow fell over her; another blast of ice cold water full in the face left her gasping and shivering. “Awake yet?” a voice rumbled.

A man, not a guardsman, peered down at her. He grabbed one of her hands. “What’s this? She’s marked. A sister.”

The guardsman holding the pail snorted. “That’s why she’s here, gov. She’s been pretending to be a sister, collecting goods and the like from folk who don’t know better. Even had a so-called defender with her. He ran away when he thought she was done-for. That should tell you something.”

The governor shook his head. “I don’t know, this doesn’t seem right to me. You’d have to be mad to impersonate a sister. If they ever found out . . .”

“Reckon she’s lucky she ended up here. Anyway, she’s your problem now.”

The governor scowled. “Aye.” He straightened. “Madison, Graves, over here.”

Maddy pushed herself to a sitting position in time to see two men whose armour bore an unfamiliar crest clink over to the governor’s side. She felt light-headed, probably from lack of nourishment. She vaguely recalled drinking water, but to her knowledge, hadn’t eaten during the journey to the prison. At least the world had stopped spinning.

“We’ve got another prisoner I don’t know what to do with,” the governor said to Madison and Graves. “Blasted nobles, playing their games. If they got off their arses and put in an honest day’s work like the rest of us, they wouldn’t have the bloody time.” Madison and Graves nodded. The governor sighed. “Oh well. On the off chance she’s actually a sister, we’d better take care of her, in case other sisters come looking for her. Put her in with the master thief.”

They all laughed raucously. “The master thief,” Graves repeated, wiping a tear from his eye.

Master thief? Maddy didn’t like the sound of that.

“Stand up,” Madison said. When he saw that she was trying but didn’t have the strength, he grasped her elbow and helped her.

“When did you last eat?” the governor asked.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, not feeling so great now that she was upright.

“Get her to the cell and then bring her a bit of broth,” the governor said to Graves before he strode off.

Maddy was barely aware of her surroundings as they dragged her through the prison, but the stench! Urine, excrement, blood, sweat . . . thank goodness her stomach was already empty. Occasionally the resident of a cell moaned or screamed, frightening her. She kept her head down, afraid of what she’d see if she glimpsed a face at a cell window. Madison slapped away the hands of any who reached for them through the bars.

Ahead of them, Graves turned a key in a lock. The door scraped open. “In here,” Madison murmured. Mercifully he didn’t push her inside, because she would have ended up flat on her face. He stepped into the cell with her and lowered her to the floor. “I’ll be back with your broth.” The thick wooden door thudded shut; the key turned in the lock again.

She lay down, resting her head on her arm rather than on the cold, stone floor. Would she ever feel all right again? The abbess had said that drawing the elements could be dangerous for her. Doing so hadn’t killed her, but she was taking much longer to recover this time. The lack of food didn’t help. She wrapped her free arm around her stomach and groaned.

“Are you all right, Miss?”

The high-pitched voice startled her and irritated her aching head.

“You’re not going to throw up, are you, Miss? It’ll be days before they get rid of it.”

Maddy started to turn toward the voice, but stopped when she felt nauseous.

“You don’t look well, Miss.”

“Give me a minute, please,” Maddy murmured, determined to roll over once the wave of nausea subsided.

“All right.” Then, after a brief silence, “Has it been a minute yet, Miss?”

“No, it hasn’t!” Maddy hissed. Exasperation propelled her onto her other side. Her mouth fell open. “How old are you?” she blurted.

The girl—at least Maddy thought it was a girl; it was difficult to tell under all the muck—blinked at her. She held up all the fingers on her right hand and three on her left. “Eight. How old are
you
?”

“I suppose that was a bit rude, wasn’t it?” Maddy said. “I’m twenty-four. What’s your name?”

The girl, sitting on the grimy floor a few feet from Maddy, scratched at her matted hair and hugged her thin legs to her chest, her elbows poking through the holes in the worn rags clinging to her skin. “Emmey, Miss.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Emmey. I’m Maddy.” She pressed her hand against her chest, then winced when sharp pain stabbed through the right side of her head.

“Are you all right, Miss?” Emmey asked, keeping her distance.

“I’ll be all right.” She hoped.

“I’d give you some water, but I already drank it all.”

“Maybe they’ll bring some with the broth.”

Emmey frowned. “Might be a while before you get that, Miss.”

“You can call me Maddy. You don’t have to address me as Miss.” Talking to Emmey helped distract Maddy from her physical discomfort. “Why are you here, Emmey?”

“I nicked something I shouldn’t have.”

Maddy managed a small smile. “As opposed to something you should have?”

Emmey shrugged.

So this was the master thief? “I didn’t think they put little girls in prison.”

“I’m not a little girl!” Emmey shouted. “I don’t need nobody. I can take care of myself!”

Maddy’s head pounded. She closed her eyes and groaned.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s all right,” Maddy murmured. She opened her eyes when she felt a gentle pressure on her arm. Her nose wrinkled, but she didn’t draw back.

Emmey leaned over her. “You don’t have a plague, do you, Miss? We had one here, not long back. Carried them out day and night. I could hear them groaning. Don’t know what happened to them.”

“Don’t worry, you can’t catch what I have,” Maddy said. “How long have you been here?”

“I dunno. Just know I’ll be here until I die.”

It didn’t make sense. What could Emmey have stolen that would prompt them to throw a child into this place and throw away the key? “What did you steal, Emmey?”

“Huh?”

“Nick. What did you nick?”

“Someone’s purse, Miss.”

Maddy didn’t approve, but it sounded like a typical theft, not one that would condemn an eight-year-old to life imprisonment.

“What did you do, Miss? Must have been very bad, whatever it was.”

Maddy opened her mouth to tell Emmey to drop the “Miss” and use her name, then decided it didn’t matter. “Why do you say that?”

Emmey sat on her heels and studied Maddy, a keen intelligence in her eyes. “Your hands, Miss. I saw one of you once, when I was with my ma. She pulled me away, told me you could hurt me. But you don’t look like you could hurt no one.”