Wolves Among Us(46)

Stefan stood. “Get out.”

“No, Father Stefan. Hear me.”

“I want no talk of witches, not in my church, Mia. If you fall prey to this madness, then you will suffer it alone.”

Mia’s shoulders fell. She cleared her throat, trying to soothe the burning lump starting inside. “I have nowhere else to go, Father. Something is terribly wrong.”

“You can go home, Mia. You can tend to your child and to Bjorn. Go earn your good name.”

“What good name do I have?” Mia said. “My husband cares nothing for me. I have no more friends. The one friend I trusted abandoned me, and now you, my own priest—you want nothing to do with me either.”

Stefan sighed, putting his head in his hands for a moment.

“I just want to ask one question and then I’ll leave. How can I go back, Father? How can I undo my mistakes?”

“What do you know of mistakes? Forgetting to make bread? Using too much salt? I know about real mistakes.”

“Bjorn is bewitched because I failed him as a wife. I left him vulnerable. He has lain with other women. And Bastion has said these same women bewitched Alma. It was why she was so often sick, despite my prayers.”

“No woman in this village would curse a child.”

“They have to. Bastion says they do. They have to murder children, ’tis how they get blood to make their magic potions.”

“This madness offends God.”

“Then why did God heal Alma?” Mia asked. Her heart quickened. She hadn’t said that out loud before.

“Alma has been healed?”

“Yes. Alma was healed that night after Bastion’s first service. Doesn’t this mean God is blessing Bastion’s work?”

“We should not mistake success with men as a sign of God’s blessing.”

“I do not want to believe this is God’s way either, but God is a mystery to me. Why would He heal Alma when I have made so many mistakes?”

“Because you asked Him to. He is a Father and a Savior.”

“I’ve asked Him for lots of things.”

“So have I.”

They sat in silence. Mia knotted the fabric in her lap, then released it.

“Bastion troubles me a great deal, Father. I don’t know who else to turn to.”

Stefan stood and approached the altar, staring up at the crucifix, his hands behind his back. “God did not answer me or grant my prayers for Alma either. Why do you come to me, then?” Stefan asked, then turned to face her. “Why come to me at all, Mia?”

Mia wrapped her arms around her stomach and looked away. “I thought you would have answers.”

“You have to choose. Bastion’s words or mine. Choose whom to believe, or neither of us can help you.”

“I want to believe you. But Bastion has done great things, things worth believing in.”

“So why come to me now? My words seem to produce no effect. You said it yourself.”

“Because you are my priest, and I have sinned. I am confused. I do not know how to repent, whether it is my nature to sin or some devil at work.” She paused, taking a deep breath before releasing what burned in her heart. “I tempted a man, Stefan. I did not mean to. I am afraid God will take away Alma’s healing, afraid I’ll do something worse.”

She lied just a little. True that she had not wished for this or invited Bastion’s kiss, but now she knew desire. Her pains melted away when she thought of the kiss. She would not confess that.

“Bastion would say there is nothing you can do,” Father Stefan said. “Women stir up lust in a man.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“It is in your nature. It is the way God made you. That is what Bastion teaches, is it not?”

“Name any penance. I do not want to be this way.”

“Go home, Mia, and stay there. If you live by Bastion’s teaching, then you will suffer by it too.”

“But …”

“Go away!”

Mia stumbled out of the doors, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight as tears streamed down her face, shaming her.

Strong arms caught her before she tumbled down the steps.

“Mia? What is wrong?”

Bastion had hold of her. Mia was so grateful for his touch, his arms taking hold of her, but she thought of running. Running would be right.

“Tell me what has happened,” he said.

“Is something wrong with me?”

He led her a few steps away where she could lower her voice—a kind thing for him to do. Her comfort mattered to him.

“Bastion, why do people treat me this way? Even Father Stefan is sick of me.”

Bastion made a little scolding sound, shaking his head.

“Don’t mock me,” Mia said, unable to raise her eyes to look at him. “Why is Bjorn so cold to me? Even you—you would not flatter me if I was not desperate, would you? That’s what makes me attractive to you. I was desperate when Bjorn married me. I don’t provoke desire in any man. I provoke pity. Pity and scorn.”

“Are you done?” Bastion asked.

She made everything worse every time she tried to speak. He probably thought her a fool.

“I owe you my deepest apologies, Mia. This is my fault.”