“I will talk to Michael,” the woman made to stand, but Rune placed a hand on her shoulder. “Your eyes are different,” she said, staring into his golden orbs. It was as if she were mesmerized by the color. “Something is going on here – something bad – and I wish to understand. I wish to help. You two saved my life, and the lives of all those marked by the bone fever. Don’t think that I forgot.”
Seraphina and Rune exchanged a glance. He couldn’t talk to her, but Michael hadn’t extended the forbiddance to include others. This, and other mistakes he’d made, told her he had little experience using the Obedience Lattice. Seraphina signaled with a pointed look that he should be the one asking questions, and fast, before the rebel leader saw them and intervened.
“And you, Willa?” he asked.
“Me?” She glanced at Seraphina, who gave her an encouraging smile. “Oh, I’m here with Peter and his boy, Hans. I wouldn’t have left Langenbach, but when Peter said they were joining the Faithful, I had to. I tried to change his mind, but he wouldn’tlisten. What madman drags his only son into war? And so young… Hans is only eleven!”
Seraphina’s stomach dropped.
“What do you mean by only son?” Rune asked. “What about the youngest? Kaspar.”
Willa shook her head and crossed herself.
“A tragedy. The boy died recently, not even ten days ago. He wasn’t sick, there was no accident. One moment, he was feeding the chickens with his brother, the next, he was on the ground, dead. Just like that. Like something had struck him.” She crossed herself again. “The boys’ mother died the next day. Of a broken heart, everyone says. Peter went insane, and Kaspar has barely said a few words since it happened. Both devastated, inconsolable… When the Faithful passed through Langenback, Peter saw an opportunity to leave it all behind. I begged, we argued, and in the end, I packed a bag and joined them. I couldn’t leave Hans alone with his father. Given the state he’s in, he can’t even take care of himself, let alone his boy.”
A sob tore out of Seraphina. Her eyes filled with tears, she opened her mouth, but nothing coherent came out.
“I know,” Willa said, patting her knee and wiping a tear from the corner of her own eye. “It’s dreadful. A horrible, unfair thing to happen, especially after Peter’s wife was at death’s door and made a full recovery. To survive the Harvester’s pestilence and just drop dead later… I keep telling myself, I’m not one to judge God’s ways. But I delivered both boys, and now one is gone, the other is lost without a mother. I know I can’t replace her. That’s not my intention. My hope is that my presence here will help a little. Maybe Peter will see that the Faithful’s cause will only bring more death to his family.”
Seraphina could barely listen to her anymore. She struggled against her binds and collapsed onto her side. Rune reached for her, but she kicked him, and he retreated, hurt. She sobbedsilently, not wanting to attract attention. She immediately felt guilty for pushing him away, but she didn’t deserve his help. She didn’t want it.
Kaspar was dead, and it was her fault.
Two years ago, he’d found Matteo’s journal and read it. That had made him the keeper of Matteo’s secret. Nothing happened to him, because he hid the journal and never told anyone.
Then Idris implanted Seraphina’s eyes, a few days after the surgery, she could see again, and she reached for the journal she’d been carrying since Langenbach, craving to read her lost lover’s words. The secret passed on to her, as well as the toll of the Oath Relic, and Kaspar dropped dead. Two people had made the oath over the sacred bone – Headmaster Wolff and Matteo da Siena – two people were always going to know the secret at one time.
“Oh, don’t torture yourself,” Willa cooed. “You’re too good. You care so deeply about people.”
Seraphina shook her head and moved away, dragging herself to a corner of the tent. The floor was cold and hard, bare ground covered over with cut fir boughs piled thick, and blankets thrown on top. She couldn’t stand Willa and Rune looking at her, thinking she was crying because she cared so much. It was that too, just not the only reason.
She hadn’t done it intentionally. She would never cause harm to a child. It could be argued she had done nothing at all, and it was Matteo’s fault again. How many people would he hurt from beyond the grave? If she put his soul to rest, if she gathered his parts, and organs, and bones and put them in the ground, would it stop? He haunted her – a ghost with things left unfinished. There was no one she could share the burden with.
“What happened at the convent?” Willa whispered to Rune. “Why is Seraphina bound? Is there anything I can do to help?”
Rune looked at Seraphina and made a judgement call.
“You have Peter and Hans to worry about,” he said.
“But I–”
“Willa?” Michael crouched down to look inside the tent. “What is going on here?”
The woman opened her mouth to say something, looked up at Rune, and changed her mind. She swallowed heavily.
“She’s crying,” she said.
“I can see that she’s crying. Let’s leave her alone. She’ll feel better, I’m sure.”
“I should bring her water and something to eat.”
Willa pushed herself to her feet, the movement merciless on her aging joints. Michael graciously helped her up.
“We barely have enough for our people,” he said. “She won’t be with us long, so there’s no need to be concerned about her. Better check on Peter and his son. We’re going back to the convent in half an hour, and you’ll join me this time. We need every abled body.”
Willa glanced at Seraphina, who was curled up on the ground, her face covered by her long, blond hair. She’d stopped sobbing.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll find Peter.”
