“You bugger!” Lillian sputtered.
Emmey covered her mouth. “Oh, I don’t think you’re supposed to say that word.”
“I’ll say whatever I bloody-well feel like saying! Do you know how much you frightened me?” Her hands still shook.
“I told you I could swim! I can hold my breath for a long time, too.”
“I don’t care!” Lillian snatched her robe from Emmey’s hand. “Find the rest of my clothes. Now!” She stomped out of the lake and examined her robe. Soaked! And the same would be true of her shift and travelling clothes. How long until Pinewood? Grimacing, she struggled into the wet robe, not wanting to climb the rocky path naked. Fortunately Emmey hadn’t taken her shoes. “Hurry up!” she snapped when Emmey handed her a wet shift and riding skirt.
Minutes later, Emmey emerged from the lake with a limp shirt. “We better be careful climbing back up,” she said. “Water could come down again.”
Lillian looked at her in surprise. “Where do you think the water came from?”
Emmey thought a moment, then shrugged. “There must be a waterfall, but I didn’t see one. Doesn’t make sense, though. Water would be there all the time.”
Lillian started up the slope. “Didn’t Maddy tell you about how sisters draw the elements?” When Emmey reached for her hand, she hesitated, then took it.
“Yeah.”
“One of those elements is water.”
Emmey jerked her head up to look at Lillian. “You mean you did it?”
“Yes, and then I turned the water to ice. That’s why you slipped.”
“Oh. I didn’t know it was ice. I just fell on my bottom and couldn’t stop.”
“Exactly what I wanted you to do,” Lillian said smugly. “Though it would have been nice if you’d thrown the clothes aside.”
“I didn’t have time!”
Winded, Lillian didn’t respond, focusing silently on navigating up the slope to their camp.
Maddy was kneeling on a blanket. “I was just unpacking what we need for supper,” she said, carefully unwrapping the bundle that contained the bread and cheese they’d bought from a farmer earlier that afternoon. She smiled up at Lillian. “Can you cut these while I’m bathing?” Her smile faded. She looked at Emmey, then back at Lillian. “Do I want to know? You know that when you bathe, you remove your clothing, right?”
Lillian dropped her soaked clothes and pointed at Emmey. “It was her fault.”
“No, it was hers,” Emmey said, pointing at Lillian.
“She was running away with my clothes!” Lillian’s mouth tightened when Maddy’s twitched.
“She made ice and so I slipped and fell in the lake,” Emmey countered.
“You drew water?” Maddy said incredulously. “I thought I heard gushing water at one point. That was you?”
Lillian put her hands on her hips. “I told her to stay put! If she’d done what she was told, none of this would have happened. And when she fell in the lake, she pretended she was drowning and scared the life out of me!”
The amusement in Maddy’s eyes died. She turned to Emmey. “Did you do that, Emmey?”
“I wasn’t trying to scare her, Miss.”
“Then what were you trying to do?” Lillian snapped, her temples pulsing.
“You know what? You two sort this out while I bathe.” Maddy pushed herself upright. “I want a quiet evening, all right?”
“You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Lillian asked. “The water’s a bit deep. You could slip. I’m a bit jittery, now.”
“I can still swim, Lillian. I’d rather you stay here, with Emmey.” Maddy heaved a sigh. “Can I have the soap, please?”
Lillian stared at her.
Maddy held out her hand. “The soap?”
“I dropped it in the lake,” she admitted sheepishly.
“We don’t have any more!”
Lillian jerked her thumb at Emmey. “If she hadn’t played her little prank, I wouldn’t have dropped it.”
“I didn’t know you’d drop the soap!” Emmey shouted.
“Right, I’m going.” Muttering, Maddy walked away.
Emmey stuck a finger in her mouth. “I think she’s mad at us.”
“Really? How astute of you!” Lillian picked up her wet clothes and moved them over to the small pile of twigs Maddy had started. Later she’d use steel and flint to light a fire; she’d already frivolously drawn the elements enough for one day.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Emmey said.
“What on earth possessed you to do it, then?” she asked, motioning for Emmey to follow her to Ticky.
“I wanted to see if you’d rescue me.”
“Of course I’d rescue you.” For Maddy’s sake. Mainly.
“I wasn’t sure, so I thought I’d stay under the water and see if you’d come.”
Lillian peeled off her robe and handed it to Emmey, then found another blanket and used it to pat herself dry.
“When I saw how fast your legs were moving, I knew I’d be in trouble. But I was also happy because you were coming to rescue me.”
Lillian would never understand this child, but could appreciate her curiosity. “I usually support an empirical approach, but not in this case.”
“An empiri-what?”
She pulled a shift over her head and stepped into the dry robe. “Learning through observation or experience.”
Emmey still looked confused.
Lillian sighed. “Doing something and seeing what happens.”
“Oh!” Emmey said, brightening.
“But not when it frightens people.” She finished buttoning her robe, stepped into a pair of sandals, and rummaged around in a bag for the cloth-wrapped knife. Emmey followed her back to the blanket, where Lillian knelt to slice the bread and cheese for their supper. “There was no need to test me in this case,” Lillian said. “You should have known I’d rescue you.”
“I suppose so,” Emmey said, making a great show of laying out Lillian’s wet clothes. “The Miss would be upset if something happened to me.”
Lillian glanced at her. “That’s very insightful.”
Emmey’s face scrunched up. “What?”
“Never mind.”
“I didn’t think your legs could move that fast.”
Lillian stifled a chuckle. “Change your clothes. Those need to dry.”
“Are you still mad at me?” Emmey asked a moment later.
“No.”
“Because you don’t want to upset the Miss?”
“Partly.” Let the child puzzle that one out. “Now go change, and then you can help me unload Ticky.” When Emmey turned her back, Lillian smiled. Her legs churning through the water must have been quite the sight, and Emmey had meant no harm. Now that she’d calmed down, Lillian could see the humorous side of Emmey’s little experiment, but she’d never admit that to Maddy and Emmey.
*****
Your will be done. Maddy lifted her head and pulled the blanket up to Emmey’s shoulders, then pushed herself to her feet, heavy with sadness. Sound asleep, Emmey didn’t stir. Maddy stared at her, tried to commit every detail to memory. Perhaps seeing Emmey run into her ma’s arms would temper Maddy’s sense of loss. She’d imagined the joyous reunion several times—Emmey crying out for her ma; her ma crouching and reaching for her, then pulling Emmey into a hug and holding her tightly, tears streaming down her face. If only it would happen next week, and not tomorrow.
They could have pushed on to Pinewood without stopping for the night, but Maddy had wanted one last evening around the fire with Emmey. Lillian hadn’t protested, bless her. She must be itching to return to the monastery, but had readily agreed to camp while the sun was still high. “Good night, Emmey,” Maddy murmured.
She joined Lillian, who sat near the fire, her legs drawn up to her chest. “I’m a selfish cow,” she said as she sat down and leaned into her.
“Why?”
“I should be happy that Emmey will be ba
ck with her family tomorrow, but I’m not, not completely.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re selfish.”
Tears stung Maddy’s eyes. “And now I’m going to have a little cry,” she said with a sniffle. “Don’t mind me, I’m just being silly.”
Lillian put her arm around Maddy and squeezed her. “You’re not being silly.”
Maddy rested her head on Lillian’s shoulder, rubbed her cheek against her robe. “I said I’d make you a robe from softer wool, but I find your rough robes oddly comforting.”
“They’re very empathic, my robes,” Lillian said, making Maddy smile.
“Will you miss her?” Maddy asked, tucking her hand into Lillian’s.
“It’ll certainly be quieter.”
“You won’t miss her at all?”
Lillian took her time answering. “I’m not attached to her in the same way you are. You two shared an experience that brought you close. And I don’t relate well to children.”
“I’ve seen the two of you talking, certainly more than you did earlier on.”
“I feel more comfortable around her, and I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her. I could grow fond of her, with time. But right now, my affection for her doesn’t run as deep as yours. I’ll miss her in the sense that it will be strange not having her around.” Lillian lifted Maddy’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “I have to admit, I’m looking forward to having you to myself for a bit.”
Maddy gazed at her. “We’re not having much of a romance, are we? You left the monastery to come save me, and ended up with a cripple and a child.”
Lillian snorted. “Romance is for the bards. And you’re not a cripple. You’re managing quite well.”
“I can get along, but I don’t know what I’ll do back in Merrin.” She smiled. “And romance isn’t just for the bards. I thought it was quite romantic, you galloping after me on Baxter and riding into the prison just in time to save the day.”
Lillian’s face flushed. “Now you’re being silly.”
“Perhaps I am. Most folk would run away screaming if someone whispered, ‘I’m going to cut your hand off,’ into their ear.”
“If you want flowery words, you’re with the wrong person.”
“I don’t. And I’m not.” Words came so easily and were often empty. Lillian had shown her love umpteen times since arriving at the prison—in saving Maddy’s life, searching for Emmey, agreeing to take her home, and putting up with Emmey without losing her temper too often. Maddy had done nothing but take. She’d miss Emmey terribly and wonder about her every day, but it was time to look toward the monastery and the rest of her life, which she hoped to share with Lillian.
“You’ll do fine back in Merrin.” Lillian said. “To be honest, I was a bit surprised when you agreed to go back so easily. I thought you’d take some convincing, especially after all that had happened to you.”
Maddy was silent while she collected her thoughts. “I still don’t understand why I’m malflowed. I still feel as if I must have done something wrong. Salbine’s will has been a mystery to me ever since that night in the training room, and recent events haven’t helped any. But if I’m to find my way again, I need an anchor, something I can hold onto while I venture out in search of answers. That’s the Order, the sisters at Merrin.” You. “I still love Salbine. I still want to serve Her. I’ve come to accept that my place is in the Order. But I don’t know how I’m going to serve.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.”
She liked the We’ll. “I still want to go to Heath.”
“And you will, once Sophia’s calmed down.”
“Do you think we can see Emmey on the way? I’d like to be able to tell her that she’ll see us in a few months’ time. Well, me.”
“I don’t care how many sisters and defenders Sophia sends with you, I’m going too.” Lillian cleared her throat. “Though when I said Sophia would have to calm down first, I was thinking in terms of years.”
Maddy chuckled.
“How are you feeling, physically?” Lillian asked.
“Stronger. I almost feel normal. For the longest time, I was worried that I’d suffered permanent injury, but I just needed decent grub.” She steeled herself, then said the words she knew would hurt. “I can never draw the elements again.”
“You should never have tried, especially since you knew you’d fail. You’re lucky it didn’t kill you.”
“I had to try! They wouldn’t have hanged only me. Jonathan’s life would have been forfeit, too. And if I hadn’t tried, I would have been hanged. I only ended up in prison because they thought Salbine was judging me.” She didn’t entirely disagree with them.
“You didn’t deserve prison.” Lillian lifted a stick from the pile next to her and threw it onto the fire.
“If I hadn’t gone to prison, Emmey would still be rotting there—or worse.”
Lillian was silent for a moment. “I’m surprised you don’t resent Emmey.”
Maddy twisted toward her. “Why would I resent her?”
“When she told me your story, she said you were burned saving her.”
“She left out an important detail. That prisoner was going for me. He only went for her when she leaped in front of me, to defend me.”
“The silly mite,” Lillian murmured.
“I’m going to miss that silly mite,” Maddy said, tearing up again. “I won’t be very good company for a while, I’m afraid.”
Lillian’s lips brushed against Maddy’s ear. “You’re always good company.”
“Careful. That almost sounded romantic.” Her light tone belied her sorrow. Maddy leaned into Lillian again, and quietly wept as they watched the fire dance.
Chapter Eighteen
Maddy clutched Emmey’s hand as Lillian tethered the horses. Remember to smile. No matter how conflicted she felt when Emmey and her ma reunited, she must smile and wish them well. There would be time to cry later. Poor Lillian. “Are you sure it’s near here?” she asked Emmey.
Emmey nodded.
“That was clever of you, remembering the name of the shop nearby.” Using that information, several folk had directed them to this spot. Emmey’s home should be just around the corner.
“I used to come here all the time, Miss.”
Maddy had expected Emmey to be excited, but she seemed subdued. “You’ll see your ma and your brothers and sisters soon.” No reaction. Perhaps Emmey had seen through her false cheerfulness.
“Right. Where do you live, then?” Lillian asked briskly, earning Maddy’s gratitude. If it were left up to her, she’d drag out these last few minutes as long as she could.
Emmey pointed to her right. “Around there.”
Lillian walked in that direction and greased the palms of three beggars before they even reached the corner. Maddy had already gathered that this was the poorer area of Pinewood. She’d thought that imprisonment had removed all the meat from Emmey’s bones, but the children searching for scraps were almost as emaciated as Emmey had been. “Do you think it’s safe to leave the horses unattended?” she asked Lillian.
“Don’t worry. Anyone who tries to touch the horses is in for a nasty surprise.”
“Not a fatal one, I hope.”
“No, no, no.”
A loud, piercing yelp made Maddy turn in time to see a child racing away from the horses, shaking his hand.
Lillian grunted. “See? Still alive.”
They turned the corner and entered a cul-de-sac ringed by dilapidated wooden shacks. “Which one is yours?” Maddy asked, keeping the horror out of her voice with effort. A home was built on love, not coin. But it was difficult not to be dismayed, especially when she’d return to the comforts of the monastery. Perhaps Salbine was trying to teach her to count her blessings and be grateful for what she had, rather than focusing on what she lacked.
Emmey pointed. “That one.”
“Are you sure?” Maddy asked as they approached it. The front door stood
ajar, the single front window was shattered, and the roof would no longer keep out the rain.
Lillian frowned. “It looks abandoned.” She hesitantly pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Maddy followed her, still holding Emmey’s hand. She raised her stump and pressed it against her nose. Rubbish lay strewn over the floor of the single room. Maddy quickly stepped aside as a rat lumbered by, then jumped at a loud shout behind her: “Oy! What are you doing in there?” She didn’t need more of an excuse to leave the rank shack.
“I’m sick of you folk dumping your rubbish and pissing and shitting in there,” the woman standing outside the shack yelled. “You’re attracting all the vermin. They don’t stay in there, you know. They end up in—” Her eyes widened; she lowered her head and backed up. “Begging your pardon, Sister. I didn’t know it was you. I thought—”
“It’s all right,” Maddy said, gratefully sucking in fresh air. A grimacing Lillian stumbled out after her.
Emmey looked up at Maddy. “That’s Mrs. Clarehill.”
Clarehill straightened. “How do you know my name?” She peered at Emmey. “Emmey, is that you?”
Emmey nodded.
Clarehill’s hand went to her chest. “My goodness, child, I never expected to see you again. Look at you! You’re a proper little girl.”
“We’re hoping to return Emmey to her family,” Maddy said.
Clarehill snorted. “Long gone, they are.” She swept her arm toward the abandoned shack. “As you can see. She found another fella and fell in love, the stupid cow. Followed him who knows where, ready to pop another babe. She won’t be back, and I doubt she expected this one to be back. How did you get out, Emmey? And why? You were probably doing better in there.”
Maddy’s breath caught in her throat. “You knew she was in prison?”
“Of course I did! Right ruckus, it was.”
“What happened?” Lillian asked.
“You don’t know? Cassy had her own little den of thieves, she did. Emmey’s ma,” she clarified in response to Maddy’s questioning look. “Popped one out regular, she did. All with different pas, I’m sure. You don’t want to know the comings and goings, Sisters, believe me. Once they were four or five, it was out to rob whoever they could.” Her gaze shifted to Emmey. “But this one didn’t want to. Fought fiercely with her ma, she did. Ran away so many times I lost count, but she always came back.”
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