Holy Sister

As concealment went it was a pretty poor job, but people see what they expect to see and a shapeless heap of sacking and soiled clothes rarely merits close inspection. In any event neither Sister Apple nor Kettle would miss her wherever she hid. Even if they didn’t notice the groove in the stone that meant unlocking the door had been unnecessary, and neither of them would miss that, then the smell of her lantern would be enough to set them searching. If it were Apple rather than Kettle then at least Nona’s current position held the possibility of a mad scramble for the door while her back was turned.

Nona lay as she had been taught, not rigid but boneless despite every instinct to tense. A lantern’s glow pressed through the material of her hood. Why would either nun have a lantern with them? Nobody at the convent worked shadows as well as Kettle or Apple.

The person entered. A single person, their footsteps uncertain. Nona called on her clarity, letting her mind sink into the web of its senses. She could still hear distant echoes of passion, Kettle by the sound of it. Who else would have a key? And how had they got into the caves? A second key to the gate above?

The intruder moved hurriedly around the room, picking up something here, something there, a rustle, a sniff, moving on. It reminded Nona of her first raid on the stores, collecting ingredients. Clearly she hadn’t been alone in thinking to make use of the opportunity provided by Kettle’s return. Nona lay like a dead thing. Despite her boredom in the sanatorium she had to admit that Sister Rose might have had a point. The climb down to the Shade windows had exhausted her and all she really wanted to do was lie down, regardless of her racing heart.

Listening to the intruder’s toing and froing, Nona tried to picture where they went in the room. At least the fact that the person carried a lantern themself left them unable to detect the lingering smoke of her own. Even so, something spooked them. The hurried activity ceased. A long moment’s silence, then a high pop as if a small bottle were being unstoppered.

The eye drops. Nona hadn’t had time to put them away.

‘I can see you.’ A female voice. Young. Familiar. ‘Come out.’

Nona took care not to tense. The fractional movements could give her away.

Silence. Then slow footsteps, coming closer, not a direct path but gradually drawing closer nonetheless.

‘I won’t hurt you …’

Nona reached into the rock around her. It wasn’t hard to do, her face had been pressed to the cold stone floor long enough to go numb. She reached in with her mind and followed the surfaces, her perception tingling over the interior of the cave. Her marjal stone-work would never move mountains, but watching and sensing Zole at work had been enough of a lesson to help her focus what talent she had. Gritting her teeth, Nona pushed. On the opposite side of the cave a flake of stone broke free of the wall and fell. The faint sound brought the intruder round in a sharp turn. Something hit the far side of the chamber; a throwing star – by the sound of it rolling for a moment before fetching up against some other surface.

‘Pits!’ The girl hurried over to where she’d thrown her missile.

Nona tilted her head a fraction. Enough to offer a slit of vision from beneath the folds of her habit’s hood. Her view was partial, a kneeling figure silhouetted against the lantern held high before her. Even so, with the glow setting the golden edges of her hair aflame it was enough. Joeli Namsis had favoured ‘pits’ as a curse of late.

Nona returned her head to its original position, losing sight of her enemy. They said Joeli was the best poisoner among the novices. And not Ruli’s elusive ‘they’ but everyone. Nona had, in moments of particular paranoia when Abbess Glass fell sick, wondered if Joeli were poisoning her. She’d discounted the idea on the basis that Joeli couldn’t possibly be so good at the craft that she fooled both Sister Rose and Sister Apple. Additionally, continuing to dose the ailing Glass despite Kettle watching over her with single-minded devotion would have been beyond the girl. Of course … Nona hadn’t considered that Joeli might have access to the stores cavern and the rows of preparations waiting there. Could she have been tainting the very cures that Apple applied? The thought sent a cold shiver up Nona’s spine, rage burning in its wake.

Could Joeli have done it though? Sister Apple herself was always full of praise for the girl’s efforts. And that assessment stood in the face of the suspicion that her truth pill might have been circumvented in the matter of Joeli’s role in Darla’s death. Joeli could certainly brew with rare skill. As to the delivery, Nona was less impressed. Joeli had never managed to poison her. In fact Nona wasn’t certain Joeli had ever tried, which spoke of a lack of confidence in her skills as she certainly wasn’t shy with her thread-work. But if all she had to do was to come to the stores chamber during a Shade class and add a drop to the abbess’s medicines …

Joeli poked around on the far side of the room while Nona seethed with the darkest of thoughts. After what felt like an age but was probably no more than a couple of minutes Joeli finished her stealing. Seemingly satisfied, she gathered up her takings. The sound of footsteps making for the door followed.

Nona lay motionless as Joeli rummaged for her key. Apart from Mistress Shade surely only the abbess would have a key to two convent sigil-locks. Possibilities raced through Nona’s mind. Would Wheel have just given Joeli the key? She had always liked the girl … but to risk Sister Apple’s wrath like this?

The door opened on oiled hinges and a particularly loud squeal reached through from down the tunnel. Nona pressed her lips against the smile that wanted to show there. A momentary pang of jealousy ran through her. She and Regol were never so loud. Were they doing it wrong? Perhaps it was just the nuns’ misplaced faith in the caves’ privacy. Certainly Alata and Leeni didn’t keep the whole dorm awake at night.

At last the rattle of the key being set in the lock broke Nona’s chain of thought. A pause. The door closing. Another pause. Nona’s heart began to pound. Had Joeli noticed the groove she’d made in the stone? Would she raise the alarm? Joeli knew the abbess would come down lightly on her, and like the Rock of Faith on Nona. Did she have the stomach to take a whipping in order to see Nona banished again … or worse?

Click. Finally Joeli turned the key and locked the door. Nona allowed herself a sigh of relief.

A moment later the door opened again without any unlocking. ‘I hope you like your mustard grey?’

Something hit the ceiling with a soft popping noise. The door shut quickly and rapid footsteps faded into the distance.

Nona drew a deep breath, initiated by shock but prolonged by the knowledge that if Joeli really had thrown grey mustard spores at the ceiling they would not yet have had time to reach her.

She turned her face towards the rocky wall, thinking furiously. Her hands were already inside her sleeves and now she gathered the slack material into her fists, sealing the ends. Joeli had trapped her in a dark cave that was rapidly filling with grey mustard spores. The door stood about four yards from Nona’s position, with two sets of free-standing shelves to be navigated around. There was no way she could make it out in time.

Grey mustard? Would Joeli do that? Even for her it was extreme. Nona’s corpse would be an ugly thing, skin blistered and burned, eyes clawed to ruin by her own hands. The agonizing death could take the best part of an hour, so Sister Apple would doubtless find her as she wrecked the stores chamber with her convulsions. There would be nothing that even the Poisoner could do though, other than watch her die.