First, she was supposed to arrive at the noon bells the day before yesterday. She did not come until well after sunset. She was assigned her own quarters, since it was plain she should not sleep in the bunks with the brothers, but yet she ended up sleeping in the narthex under the statue of Saint Bridget that night. She ignored everything Brother Mergolliet said to her, going off on her own throughout the day, occasionally praying with Reverend Halster when he was supposed to be leading services or ministering over the brothers.
Now, before even the sun was up, she was in her chambers, screaming and pounding the walls.
Mergolliet told the other brothers to try to go back to sleep, and he went to check on matters. He found Reverend Halster kneeling calmly in front of Sister Myriem’s door.
“Sir,” Mergolliet said as he approached. “This is madness, you know that?”
“I do,” Reverend Halster said. “But should we not tend to the mad, Brother Mergolliet?”
“But why are we—”
“Because God commands it so,” Halster said. He sighed, looking at the closed door. “Why do we pray to the saints, Brother?”
“For them to intercede to God on our behalf,” Mergolliet said. He didn’t understand why Halster would ask such a basic question.
“And why not to God directly?”
“For we lack the worth to question God.” Halster gestured for him to continue. If he wanted Mergolliet to recite basic theology, then Mergolliet would comply. “God sees all, is all. They are aware of the grand design in ways that we, mere mortals of weak flesh, could never comprehend.”
“So I ask you, can God comprehend us?”
That was a heavier question than Mergolliet was ready for at this hour.
“God is infinite, God everything,” Mergolliet said. “They are—”
“Consider that God, in their infinite greatness, cannot understand what being a mortal of weak flesh even means. What our petty limits are.”
“Which is why we ask the saints to intercede. They are touched by the divine, they—”
“Touched by the divine, hmmm,” Reverend Halster said. “Imagine what a toll that would put on our weak flesh.” He tapped his finger on Mergolliet’s head. “To have just a sliver of the infinite slice into your very finite mind.”
“I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Consider, Brother, the grand design God might have. All of yesterday, today, and tomorrow in a tapestry. Imagine trying to live all those days at once.” He touched the door tenderly. “Madness would be the least of it.”
The screaming and pounding stopped, and in a moment, the door opened. The young sister looked out, her face full of suspicion. “Where am I? This is not my cell at Saint Limarre’s.”
“That is true,” Reverend Halster said. “You are no longer posted at Saint Limarre’s. Do you remember?”
She scowled. “No. But that’s good. Most of them hated me. This is Saint . . . Alexis’s?”
“Saint Bridget’s,” Mergolliet said. “You arrived the day before yesterday.”
“Do you know what day it is?” Halster asked.
She scowled again. “No, I . . . the last few weeks have been such a haze. My dreams, they . . . I never know if I’m . . .” She looked around the hallway, confused.
“It’s Oscan the twenty-seventh,” Halster said. “In the year 1215. Tomorrow is Terrentin.”
Mergolliet had no idea why Halster had included the year. Surely the girl was not that addled.
“Oscan the—” she started, and then suddenly she began crying. “I’m not ready for it to be today.”
“What?” Mergolliet asked. “What about today?”
She touched Halster’s face. “I’m sorry. Why am I sorry? Why am I crying? What is it I’m so—”
Halster took the girl into an embrace. “Shh, I know.”
Her sobs quieted as she buried her face in his robe.
Halster looked to Mergolliet. “Wake the brothers and prepare a simple breakfast.”
“It’s still a bit early.”
“Even still. Then be prepared for a service. The people of this neighborhood will need our ministrations today.”
“What is today?” Mergolliet asked. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either. None of us do.” He sighed as he caressed Sister Myriem’s head. “But we do as we must, for God commands it so.”
“As you say, Reverend,” Mergolliet said. “And you?”
“I will pray with Sister Myriem,” he said. She pulled away and looked up at him, a gentle smile on her face. Saints above, she truly was just a child, to be so tormented. “While we still have a little time.”
Mergolliet nodded and went to wake the brothers. But before he was gone, he heard Myriem say one more thing.
“So very little.”
Chapter 18
DAYNE WAS REALLY TRYING TO kill this guy.
Jerinne had been scouting the camp, finding her way around, trying to figure out what was going on in this place, find Maresh and Lin. She realized the tunnels extended off in every direction, but the folks down here—both the zealots and the grotesques—were most concerned about a set of tunnels leading west.
She knew she should bide her time until help came, unless something happened that required immediate action. Being unable to find her friends in the camp, and knowing that going down the western tunnels would likely result in getting caught, she decided to lay low.
At one point, she saw the giant. Saints, he was exactly how the kid described him. Thick, shiny skin. So tall he dwarfed Dayne. He walked across the camp, specifically going to various grotesques and touching their heads. When he passed by Jerinne, she heard him say one word to a grotesque.
“Soon.”
More and more of the residents were going down the western tunnels. The camp had almost emptied. Something was happening, and she might not be able to wait any longer. She made her way cautiously toward those tunnels, passing one large hut where she heard a fight.
Not just a fight, but a powerful crack that echoed through the camp. It would have brought several people running if the place wasn’t already empty.
Jerinne went into the hut, to see Dayne wailing powerful blows on a young man with a broomstick. Another man was in a lump on the ground. Dayne was slamming
