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If it weren’t for the calming tea, my nails would have been shredding through my palms. Because the moment he pointed, every man in that room looked at us. At this garden of bright blue and white daisies, every face obscured.
I saw hatred staring at us. Distrust and rage.
As long as they couldn’t see us, or look into our eyes, we were not people to them. We were merely vessels to be blamed and punished.
“Some of them have gone even further than dark thoughts… they have walked dark paths. And because of their transgressions, the Beasts have found a foothold, a chink in our armor.”
I could almost feel the violence wafting from the men. Beside me, Freya’s muscles were clenched so tightly she felt she was made of stone. As though she sensed my thoughts, she slipped a hand beneath my robe, seeking out my fingers. We wove them together tightly, so hard it hurt, but it was comforting to have one other person in the room feel what I felt.
“But all is not lost.” The Father raised his hands in supplication. “These base creatures can repent from their misdeeds. The Vessel shall eat their sins, and we will once more cast the Beasts back into the Wood where they belong.
“We can lead them back into the light. All they need is a firm touch, a man’s touch, and they will be brought to heel once more.”
* * *
I didn’t believeFather Borodin didn’t know what he was stirring up.
Only a few of the men remained clear-headed after the service, and they had to go out of their way to prevent several of the others from attacking the veiled women right then and there.
Father Borodin had to intercede multiple times, and it was finally determined that for our first day of penance, we would purify ourselves with labor for the menfolk.
I held Freya’s hand until the moment we were forced to let go. Men came and went, bringing their holey linens and clothes back to the church and dumping them in messy piles.
We were to sort, mend, and wash. None of us were permitted to remove our hoods or veils, and soon enough those stuck inside the church were sweating profusely.
For those of us allowed to wash, the chill outdoor air was a welcome relief. I grabbed a woven basket piled with dirty pants and slipped outside with Freya.
She dared to pull her veil back, revealing her flushed face and dark eyes. An auburn curl had escaped from under her hood. “That absolute bastard,” she whispered furiously. “Not only are we slaves now, but we can’t leave the Paths. He decreed yesterday that any man or woman found in the Wood was to be put in the stocks and whipped. My sister’s baby is sick and we’re out of medicine.”
To cover our whispered conversation, I plunged a pair of pants into the tub of soapy water and began vigorously scrubbing and splashing. “What does she need? If it’s in the Augur’s stores, I can find it.”
She shook her head bitterly. “Vervain and lemon balm. He won’t have it.”
I held back a curse. She was right; the Augur did not keep ‘niceties’ like lemon balm on hand. I had seen his cupboards, filled with knotted, toxic roots and desiccated slivers of mushroom, but never lemon balm or vervain.
“No, but this is my fault. I’ll get the herbs.”
Freya cast me a sharp look. For a moment I thought she would ask why I thought this was my fault at all. Instead, she said, “What if he catches you?”
I couldn’t stop a crooked smile from crossing my face. “Being whipped is nothing new to me.”
Freya began scrubbing the pants like she wanted to destroy them. “Thank you, Salem.”
Half an hour of silence later, she did finally look at me again. Her eyes lingered on my yellow ones; my witchmarked face.
“You know that some of us don’t believe him, right?” she said softly, gathering the cleaned clothes. “We were supposed to be inside that day, for the purification of the well. But I watched through a crack in my shutters. I saw it all.” She gave me a wicked smile of her own. “He told us you attacked him, but what happened was that you were screaming and he beat you until you were unconscious. So perhaps it's not your fault. I sinned by watching the sin-eater; perhaps it's mine. But I don’t really believe that, either.”
I stared up at her. The lengthening shadows obscured half her face. Our words felt so very dangerous. “It’s none of our fault. It’shis.”
Freya nodded, then took the clothes inside.
I held her words inside me, a little glowing jewel of warmth against the coldness of this world.
Chapter Four
I waiteduntil well after nightfall to creep from the belfry and through the kitchen, silently easing the door open and shut behind me. The Augur’s snores were the only audible sound, and the candlelight flickering under the Father’s door was gone, so I dared to risk it.
I clutched a glittering stone in one sweaty hand. Everyone knew that to cross the boundary, you needed to leave an offering for the Beasts—and it needed to be worth something to you.
