“We’re supposed to be following the directions,” Sage said, her lips pressed together in an irritated line.
Raven clenched her teeth at Sage’s incessant complaining. She dismounted and stalked off in the direction of the church after Landyn. The sandstone walls were chipped and stained with dirt. A window was covered with old planks, one hanging precariously.
“Good day!” Landyn called, entering through the large wooden doors.
Raven felt a chill as she followed Landyn inside the church, expecting to be met with a dilapidated interior, but instead, what greeted her was a scene of magnificence. The light from many candles illuminated the awe-inspiring infrastructure of the church; its high arched ceilings stretched far above her head. In the center of it all was an altar, upon which sat an intricately carved wooden cross.
Nothing was falling or in need of repair. It was immaculate and well-kept, nothing like the outside.
They stepped lightly into the church, their eyes wide in wonder. Each drifted apart as they admired intricately sculpted statues of saints and ornate tapestries depicting holy scenes. Even in silent reverie, the church’s beauty captivated every one of them.
“Ah!” A bellowing voice echoed off the stone walls, and they spun to find a monk hobbling toward them. “Welcome! Welcome!” His long brown robe hung to his thick ankles. He was completely bald and beamed a smile at them as he shambled closer.
The group converged on the monk.
His face was flushed, and beads of sweat dripped from his forehead. He plopped down in the nearest pew. “I’m sorry,” he said. He indicated the church with a sweep of his arm. “We don’t get many visitors.”
Raven arched her brow as she gave the monk a thorough once-over, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
Willow stepped to the monk, her voice gentle. “Take your time.”
The monk lifted his eyes to her. “You have an accent. You’re not from this area.”
“No,” Willow admitted.
“We’ve traveled far,” Raven quickly interjected before Willow could reveal more.
The monk nodded. “God welcomes everyone. I’m Brother Henry.”
“I’m Willow,” she said and introduced the others. “Are you the only one here?”
“Sadly, yes. It’s a lonely life, but one I relish. Doing God’s work is always rewarding.”
“We can’t stay long,” Sage said firmly.
Landyn met her gaze but spoke to Brother Henry. “We need supplies. Do you know where we can get some?”
Brother Henry rubbed a hand along the back of his neck and sighed. “We have plenty here,” he said. “I was hoping you could stay the night. Or at least for the evening meal.”
Willow agreed, “We would love to.”
“No,” Sage snapped. “We can’t.”
The women turned to Raven, and the burden of leadership once again rested on her shoulders. Her gaze shifted between them, and she was torn. Staying would provide the nourishment they desperately needed, but leaving would keep them one step ahead of the Sterlings.
“I could use a set of strong hands,” Brother Henry added. “It won’t take long.”
“Of course, we’ll help,” Landyn agreed.
Sage’s fists tightened at her sides, and her breath came fast as she clenched her teeth in frustration.
The monk climbed to his feet. “Good. Good. This way. There is a stack of leftover rocks from a repair in a pile. They need to be moved and…” He led the way toward the back of the church.
Landyn followed, turning to Raven with a helpless shrug before continuing. Christian and Willow trailed a few steps behind, their footsteps echoing in the vast room.
Marcus paused at Sage’s side. “Are you well?”
Sage’s jaw tightened, and she spat out a sharp “No.”
