How did the elders justify the theft?
‘We’re creating peace like any other religion or community,’ Ezra continued when Jude didn’t respond. ‘Even in governments, no leadership framework exists withoutsomeelements of its function being kept from its followers. Are you saying you need to know how the sausage gets made to enjoy it? Through answering prayer, we can keep our followers happy. Keep the Abbey prosperous. Help our community. The saints are simply our figurehead.’
‘Keep the money coming in, you mean,’ Jude snapped.
Ezra shrugged, unbothered by the accusation. ‘Wealth is a natural consequence of power, not necessarily the goal.’
‘Why are you telling me all this?’ Jude asked. Nausea surged up from his stomach. He slipped a half-inch further down the wall. ‘After all these years, both in and out of the Abbey, why now?’
Ezra pushed to his feet. The joints of his knees cracked under him. ‘I have a deal to offer you, Jude, that’s why. And I want you to be fully aware of the stakes before you agree.’ His smile was gentle, almost saccharine. As though he held a vial of poison prepared to sweeten Jude’s tea. ‘If you leave now, no further harm will come to you.’
His mouth dropped open. That was thelastthing he’d expected Ezra to say. ‘And Maeve?’
‘She’s coming here, you know. To the Abbey.’ Ezra made a show of checking his wristwatch. ‘She should be entering in, oh – an hour’s time? She saw you get taken, and Iassumedshe’d come and attempt a rescue.’ He cocked his head. ‘Would that be the correct assumption?’
‘You’re using me tolureher here?’
Ezra raised a brow. ‘Well. It wasn’t our original plan. She was meant to be with you when we found you wandering the streets. But this works, too.’ He held up a hand before Jude could continue. ‘The offer still stands. Leave and return to your home, and you’ll be safe.’
‘And Maeve? What about her?’ Jude repeated. He wanted to spring across the room and wrap his hands around Ezra’s throat so badly that his fingers tingled.
‘Are you so concerned for the iconographer that you’d risk your own life? Surely, you must know I’d let no harm befall her. She’s like a daughter to me.’ Ezra drummed his fingers on the opposite wrist. ‘It wouldn’t be a hard thing, to erase her memories of you, and yours of her. We’ve done it before.’
Jude could bear anything but that. He tried to slow his breathing at the thought, but it continued to sweep down his body like poison in his bloodstream, promising a bottomless well of despair. His memories of her… the most precious thing he owned, gone in an instant.
Why,whyhad he not saved them in a book?
Maeve, staring down at him cross-legged on the floor, the first hint of softness in her eyes. Her pulling him from the bog, the shape of her shoulders under his hands in his library. How she’d captured him wholly and completely on the canvas. He’d knelt before her in the rain and the smoke, promising her his loyalty, his life. She’d seen him like no one ever had, and no one would again.
As surely as he knew the sound of his own heartbeat, he knew Ezra was telling the truth. He would take their memories if they didn’t comply. Or worse.
Was it his imagination, or could he hear singing through the thick stone walls? His hearing dipped in and out, leaving a faint ringing behind. He swayed on his feet.
A saint on an altar, the jeering crowd calling for blood.
Jude blinked, and the memory was gone, but the message remained – the Abbey would never allow them to walk in as saints and leave as anything less than martyrs. He had promised himself as a boy, beaten and alone in a room not so very far from here, that he would fight. He’d fought then, and he’d continue fighting now. For as long as he had breath.
‘If she’s here, then so am I,’ Jude said. ‘I won’t leave her.’
‘Ah.’ Ezra smiled. ‘I thought you might say that.’ His eyes fell to the table pushed against the side of the bed. He picked up the glass from it, tilting it to spin the remaining water along the bottom.
For the first time, Jude noticed a faint oily residue in its wake.
He swallowed. The subtle taste of juniper lingered on his tongue.
‘You didn’t drink the whole glass as I’d hoped, but it should be enough,’ Ezra said. He set the cup down. ‘Maybe sit before you collapse. It’ll be more comfortable.’
Jude swallowed again. Dryness coated his throat. The dizziness at his peripherals crept closer. His legs trembled. ‘I… I don’t—’
Ezra rose. His hands slid under Jude’s arms, directing him towards the bed. ‘I told you to sit down,’ he murmured.
Above, the ceiling flashed briefly gold before it faded entirely into black.
44
Maeve
By the time the Abbey loomed in front of her, Maeve could hardly remember the steps she’d taken between leaving the tavern and hurrying up the steps towards the hulking limestone building. None of the shops had been open, leaving her to break into a piety store and steal a set of pilgrim’s robes on her own. It wasn’t their original plan – Elden was meant to buy them when they got to Whitebury – nor was it her proudest moment, but the rising sun and sleeping city had forced her hand. At least she’d sneaked in via a back door and left coins on the counter instead of breaking a window.
