Lies (Gone #3)(38)

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Mary said quickly, interpreting his look as concern for Jill.

“Yeah. Just because Orsay is, like, lying, that doesn’t mean she’d be bad to Jill,” John said.

“Maybe I’ll go check on her,” Mary said. “In my spare time.” She laughed. It was a running joke that had long since stopped being funny.

“You probably should just stay away from Orsay,” John said.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I don’t know. I just know Astrid says Orsay’s making everything up.”

“If Astrid said it, it must be true,” Mary said.

John did not answer, just looked pained.

“Okay,” Mary said, “this load can go down to the beach.”

John seemed relieved to have a chance to get away. Mary heard him leave, wagon wheels squeaking. She glanced into the main room. Three helpers there, only one of them really motivated or trained. But they could handle things for a few minutes.

Mary washed her hands as well as she could and dried them by wiping them on her loose-fitting jeans.

Where would Orsay be at this time of day?

Mary stepped outside and took a deep breath of air that didn’t smell like pee or poop. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. When she opened them again she was surprised to find Nerezza walking quickly toward her as though they’d arranged to meet right now and Nerezza was a bit late. “You’re—,” Mary began.

“Nerezza,” the girl reminded her.

“Yeah. That’s right. It’s weird, but I don’t remember having really met you before the other day when you came and got Jill.”

“Oh, you’ve seen me around,” Nerezza said. “But I’m no one important. Everyone knows you, though, Mary. Mother Mary.”

“I was just coming to look for Orsay,” Mary said.

“Why?”

“I wanted to check on Jill.”

“That’s not why,” Nerezza said, almost smiling.

Mary’s expression hardened. “Okay. Francis, that’s why. I don’t know what Orsay told him, but you must know what he did. I can’t believe that’s what Orsay wanted. But you need to stop it, not let it happen again.”

“Stop what from happening?”

“Francis stepped out. He killed himself.”

Nerezza’s dark eyebrows climbed. “He did? No. No, Mary. He went to his mother.”

“That’s stupid,” Mary said. “No one knows what happens if you step out during the poof.”

Nerezza put her hand on Mary’s arm. It was a surprising gesture. Mary wasn’t sure she liked it, but she didn’t shake it off. “Mary: The Prophetess does know what happens. She sees it. Every night.”

“Oh? Because I’ve heard she’s lying. Making it all up.”

“I know what you’ve heard,” Nerezza said in a pitying voice. “Astrid says the Prophetess is lying. But you must know that Astrid is a very religious person, and very, very proud. She thinks she knows all the truth there is to know. She can’t stand the idea that someone else might be chosen to reveal the truth.”

“I’ve known Astrid a long time,” Mary said. She was about to deny what Nerezza had said. But it was true, wasn’t it? Astrid was proud. She had very definite beliefs.

“Listen to the words of the Prophetess,” Nerezza said, as though imparting a secret. “The Prophetess has seen that we will all suffer a time of terrible tribulation. This will come very soon. And then, Mary, then will come the demon and the angel. And in a red sunset we will be delivered.”

Mary held her breath, mesmerized. She wanted to say something snarky, something dismissive. But Nerezza spoke with absolute conviction.

“Come tonight, Mary, in the hours before dawn. Come and the Prophetess will speak to you herself, I can promise that. And then, I believe, you will see the truth and goodness inside her.” She smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s like you, Mary: strong and good, and filled with love.”





SIXTEEN


16 HOURS, 42 MINUTES




IN THE HOURS of darkest night, Orsay climbed onto the rock. She had done it many times, so she knew where to place her feet, where to grab on with her hands. It was slick in places and she sometimes worried that she would fall into the water.

She wondered if she would drown. It wasn’t very deep, but what if she hit her head on the way down. Unconscious in the water, with the foam filling her mouth.

Little Jill, wearing a fresh dress and no longer clutching her doll quite so tightly, climbed behind her. She was surprisingly nimble.

Nerezza was right behind her as she climbed, spotting her, keeping an eagle eye on her.

“Careful, Prophetess,” Nerezza murmured. “You too, Jill.”

Nerezza was a pretty girl. Much prettier than Orsay. Orsay was pale and thin and seemed almost concave, like she was hollowed out, caving in on herself. Nerezza was healthy and strong, with flawless olive skin and lustrous black hair. Her eyes were incongruously bright, an amazing shade of green. Sometimes it seemed to Orsay that her eyes almost glowed in the dark.

She was fierce in defending Orsay. A small knot of kids was just at the base of the rock, already waiting. Nerezza had turned back to speak to them. “Lies are being spread by the council because they don’t want anyone to know the truth.”