Soft fabric rubbed over his face, cleaning the blood from his nose. He blinked, slowly at first, then more quickly the longer the white fog continued to blur his vision. Maybe she was a dream, sent to haunt him, to torture him like pain never could.
‘Maeve,’ he garbled. Fresh blood trickled down his chin from his nose. ‘Is it you? Are you… are you really here?’ His voice cut out with a wet cough. ‘I can’t see. My mentor took my vision, somehow. I can’t see. At all. Only white.’
‘Jude—’ she choked. She lifted his hand to her face, let him feel its familiar contours. His fingers slid down her braid, felt its silken weight.
She was real. She washere.
Fingers brushed under his eyes, tracing his lash line, skating down his face. Did she think of what had happened between them at the inn? Did she remember how she’d begged, how he’d run?
She brushed his lower lip, and Jude thoughtyes.
He coughed again, fighting to free his voice. He had to tell her about Ezra before anything more was said between them. Nothing was more important. ‘My mentor, your mentor –Ezra. It’s Ezra, Maeve. He was the one who… who—’
His voice cut out. The hand on his shoulder convulsed. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Well, part of it. I saw him leave here and thought maybe – maybe he was the one who captured you. But him being our mentor…’ her throat clicked. ‘I suppose it makes sense, doesn’t it?’ She loosened a sigh, weary and weighted all at once. ‘Fuck.Fuck.There’s no innocence in complicity, is there?’
He’d never heard her curse. It might have made him laugh if it wasn’t for the agony lacing her voice. He scrubbed his hands over his eyes and under his nose, wiping the blood away. The fog across his vision didn’t budge. He’d give anything to see her face right now.
‘He’s more than just complicit,’ Jude said. ‘He’s an instigator. He truly believes in everything the Abbey stands for. Thememory manipulation, deceiving the congregation into believing their prayers are answered, exiling saints – all of it.’
‘I hate it,’ Maeve said, venom thick in her voice. ‘I hate it so much, Jude. The Abbey and its constant lies. How deeply the hurt runs. I just want to be free.’
Jude nodded, wishing more than anything to see her expression.
When Maeve spoke again, it wasn’t what he’d expected. ‘Can I try something?’ She touched his face, one finger gently pressing under each eye. ‘I don’t know if it’ll work, but I have an idea for restoring your vision.’
How could he tell her he’d trust her with anything? His vision, his heart, his life.
He couldn’t. He could only nod.
She moved closer. The point of her cold nose touched his cheek moments before her mouth did. She kissed him just under his ear. Fresh air. Sunlight. Walks on the moors and paint-covered fingers. He stretched his neck, following her mouth as she drew back.
‘Sorry,’ Maeve whispered. ‘I just missed you.’
‘Don’t. Don’t apologize. I need to tell you, about the inn—’
‘Not now,’ she interrupted. ‘Please. Ican’t—’ a muffled inhale. ‘I need to focus.’
He rolled his lips together, trapping words behind them.
‘Okay…’ Rustling fabric. ‘Will this work? If I—’ Maeve continued to mumble as she leaned over him, the arm braced next to his neck brushing against his skin. He shivered. ‘Close your eyes.’
She rested her fingertips on his closed lids. Nothing happened for long enough that he started to shift, wondering if there was something he was meant to be doing.
‘Don’t move,’ she scolded. Her voice sounded strained. ‘Almost there—’
She gasped, and Jude’s world exploded with gold, lastingless than a blinding second before the white blew away like mist rolling off the coast. He blinked his eyes open as she withdrew her hand from his face. The ceiling opened up above him, dark and endless. Her face appeared perfect in all its angles.
She’d done it.
She smiled, and Jude’s heart broke a little further. ‘Did it work?’
‘How? How did you do it?’ He continued to stare at her. He couldn’t help it.
‘It wasn’t that your vision was impaired. Your body couldn’trememberhow to see,’ she said. ‘Like when I couldn’t see for a few minutes at Mr Peters’ church. Somehow, Ezra made you believe you lost your vision. He altered your perception of sight. I just removed the blockage, so to speak.’
Jude rubbed at his eye with the back of his hand. ‘But… how?’
‘I found the icon of myself and burned it,’ she replied. ‘My magic feels closer to the surface now. More accessible. Like I coulduseit if I wanted. Not fully… but more.’
