Her pulse pounded unsteadily in her throat.
Slowly, she turned back to the basilica’s firmly latched doors. There was something she’d been watching, a reason she had stopped… wasn’t there? A finely pointed headache throbbed behind her eyes as though she’d been staring at the sun. Maeve closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips to her lids. Her ears echoed with a phantom scream.
Suddenly, the pain left as quickly as it had come.
She opened her eyes. Her back was pressed tight to the wall, the jut of a stonework digging into her spine. The Abbey was still and silent around her. It was breakfast. She was here to meetsomeone, wasn’t she?Brigid.She’d seen the other woman making her way to the dining hall.
Slowly, Maeve peeled off the wall, giving her head a rough shake. Pushing past the strange uneasiness swirling in her stomach, she stepped inside the hall. The room was half full, the platters set up in the middle of the long tables almost empty.
Brigid’s hand trembled slightly around a piece of charcoal as Maeve sat beside her and picked up a piece of toast. She was midway through some kind of still life – of what, Maeve wasn’t sure. An empty breadbasket, maybe, though it looked like blankets were trailing from the lip.
Maeve cocked her head and looked closer. She choked on her toast, hurriedly washing it down with a sip of lukewarm tea. Not a breadbasket. A bassinet.
Brigid dropped her charcoal. ‘My goodness, Maeve. Must you cough so loudly?’
‘Sorry,’ Maeve managed. She forced her gaze from the bassinet and took a moment to collect herself.
‘Did you need something?’ Brigid prodded. She glanced over her shoulder. ‘You shouldn’t be sitting so close.’
‘Yes. I… well,’ Maeve paused. She didn’t want to be too hasty with her questions. Or too revealing. ‘Did you know Felix is here?’
Brigid replaced the charcoal in its tin and snapped the lid shut. ‘Of course.’
‘I’m surprised you weren’t the one to paint his icon.’
‘I declined the offer,’ Brigid said. Watery daylight streamed in from the window across from them, sinking into the creases of her face. ‘My time as iconographer is coming to an end, as I’m sure you know.’
Maeve took another sip of tea to hide her awkwardness. ‘Have you painted him before?’
Brigid’s lips twitched downwards. ‘Yes.’
Saints.It was like drawing blood from a stone. ‘What do you think of him?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘He’s the first saint I’ve met with, just the two of us,’ Maeve replied. ‘I wasn’t sure what to expect. About him or his abilities. I’ve never considered that he could—’
‘That’s enough,’ Brigid interrupted, harsh enough to make Maeve jump. She looked around, lowering her voice to a whisper. ‘Have you no sense, Maeve?’
Brigid’s dark eyes were wide under their hooded lids.Fearful.
Maeve swallowed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she replied convulsively.
Doubting, even voicing questions aloud, was strictly forbidden. Every acolyte knew to search for answers from prayer and study alone. Never from each other. Brigid was afforded more freedom as the lead iconographer… but not Maeve. Not yet.
But she had to asksomeone.
‘I know it’s not my place to ask, and certainly not of you,’ Maeve whispered. Brigid’s eyes narrowed. ‘But something happened, and I think… I think Felix lied to me about it.’
As quickly as she could, and before Brigid could protest, she told her about the strange buzzing that had suffused her body, how she’d passed out and woken to find the painting finished and the room cast in gold. How Felix haddeniedit.
Brigid made a rapid motion with her hand, an urge for Maeve to stop speaking, but now that she’d started, she couldn’t quite seem to stop. ‘Felix wanted to leave immediately to get Ezra, but he arrived before he could and saw the icon. Felix tried to convince him I had a hysterical fit or something. ButFelixdid it, whatever it was that finished the icon.’ She took a breath. ‘Can a saint’s abilities work that way? Do you know if—’
‘Maeve,’ Brigid interrupted. ‘Please.Pleasestop talking. Now.’
Pain sprang up her jaw from how tightly she clamped her teeth together.
Slowly, the other woman shifted to face forward once more.She stared out the window. In the distance, the chimneys and gables of Whitebury blurred with morning haze. Maeve continued to try to breathe. Panic tied knots in her chest.
