“No.”
“Because I wouldn’t do that.” He’s touched a sore spot. She feels her temper flare.
“I know—I know you, Aleys. I’ve seen the look on your face when you believe. The way you tilt your head when you doubt. I saw the exact moment you realized it was a charade.”
“You know me.” Her throat tightens. She looks up to the ceiling and can’t hold back the beautiful, familiar words. “The beams of our house are cedars, and its rafters are firs.”
“Our couch is green.” There’s a smile in his voice.
Her whole body starts to tingle, and she doesn’t think it miracle. How? When she has God speaking into her ear, how can a mere boy still make her heart jump like this? “You remember.”
“Everything,” he says. “I wish I didn’t.” Her practiced ear, tuned to the laments and regrets that cross this sill, hears all that Finn doesn’t say. I miss you. I think of you day and night. I made a mistake.
Well, it’s a little late now. “You’re a monk. In a monastery.”
“And you’re a miracle worker.” She doesn’t respond. Finn continues awkwardly, “I mean, I know you’re not a saint—”
She feels a heat in her chest and can’t tell if it’s longing or fury. “What do you mean, ‘you know’? What if I am? What if God called me?”And not you, she thinks,after all.
“Look.” She hears the stool clatter to the floor as Finn stands. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“No. Stay.” If he goes now, she might never hear from him again. They’re silent. There’s nothing to say; Aleys is seventeen years old and enclosed for life. After a moment, she asks, “Why are you here now? The demonstration was six months ago.”
“To warn you. The bishop is using you.”
She gives a bitter laugh. “Not anymore.” She touches a round gray stone, feels the wall solid and sure. This is her home. Her choice. “I’m the safest woman in Brugge.”
“Until the inquisitors arrive.”
“The what?”
“I wasn’t sure they told you. The abbot says that Rome is sending men to test your miracles. He’s to sit on the panel.”
A shiver runs through her. “Why?”
“That’s what they do. They test for fraud.”
How ironic. “The bishop called them?” He can’t take her from her cell. That’s not allowed.
“He’s saying you’ve had showings.” His voice drops. “Aleys, is it true?”
Aleys remembers the earnest boy in the dye yard, his urgent question.There’s supposed to be a kingdom of heaven on earth.Where is it?Finn was searching, like her. He’s still searching.
“I’ve been shown,” says Aleys, “things.”
“You have? What things?”
She sighs. Mary bade her bear the truth, but words are inadequate. Still, she tries. “They showed me this: We carry a heaven within.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It is. That doesn’t make it easy.”
“You’re saying a man could find God within himself?”
“Or a woman.” The kingdom within. “I’m telling you what I’ve been shown.”
“You know they’ve hanged people for less.” Crucified them, in fact. “Aleys, be careful what you say to the inquisitors.”
