Vespertine (Vespertine #1)(49)

“So you do know this human?” the revenant asked in distaste.

My thoughts moved slowly, thickened by the syrup’s lingering fog. “Why?”

She glanced down the corridor, checking the sleeping patients and the sisters walking back and forth through the intersecting hall farther down. “I had to,” she whispered, “to keep the sisters from seeing your hands.”

An ugly jolt of terror shot straight down my guts into my bowels. I pulled my hands from beneath the covers. My gloves were gone, replaced with ridiculous-looking bandages that encased my hands like mittens.

“I told them I knew you. They still think you’re some Unsighted girl from Montprestre. I said your hands were blighted and wrapped them up before anyone could see them. If you hadn’t tied those gloves on, the sisters would have gotten them off before I could say anything….”

My heart was hammering. Gradually, it occurred to me that my uncharacteristic panic didn’t belong to me alone. It was coming from the revenant.

“She took my reliquary,” it said, while Marguerite kept on babbling.

I shoved back the covers and fumbled with my clothes, clumsily lifting the neck of my chemise, which was all I was wearing; my tunic and cloak had been taken away. And so had the reliquary. I gazed at the naked patch on my chest and then raised my eyes back to Marguerite.

She had fallen silent, watching me. She must have seen something in my eyes, because she said quickly, in a low voice taut with fear, “If you attack me, I’ll scream.”

I wasn’t sure what was worse—losing Saint Eugenia’s relic or having to reason with Marguerite. “You can put down the amulet,” I said in resignation. “I’m not possessed.”

She slowly shook her head. “Everyone saw you after the battle in the chapel. The sisters dragged you away screaming. You bit Sister Lucinde.”

“Ah, sweet memories,” the revenant hissed.

I didn’t remember that at all. “Then why haven’t you reported me to Mother Dolours?”

She bit her lip. She glanced down the corridor again, but not before I saw a flash of uncertainty cross her face. “I—everyone’s talking about you. About the battle. All the people you saved… and you saved me, too, in the chapel. But I haven’t made up my mind yet,” she added in a rush. “Even if you aren’t possessed, you’re still dangerous.”

She was right about that, at least. “Give the reliquary back.”

“No.”

Taking her eyes off me had been a mistake. I lunged from the pallet and clapped a bandaged hand over her mouth before she could scream. I hooked the other beneath the leather thong that hung around her neck and yanked it until it snapped—“Be careful,” the revenant said, alarmed—but nothing else came free with the amulet, which chimed delicately as it bounced away across the flagstones. Marguerite wasn’t wearing the reliquary.

She trembled in my grip, taking short, rapid breaths like a frightened rabbit. I waited until she made eye contact, then moved my hand away enough for her to speak.

“I don’t have it with me.” Defiance shone through her fear. “I hid it. Somewhere no one will find it.”

I shouldn’t have gotten up. The infirmary tilted sickeningly around me. I backed away, reaching the pallet just as my legs gave out and deposited me in a pathetic heap. I had the humbling realization that even if I’d found the reliquary concealed somewhere else on Marguerite, I wouldn’t have had the strength to take it from her.

She was looking at me strangely. After a moment I realized she had never seen me in a state like this before. Whenever I hadn’t felt well in the convent, I had always crept off and hidden in the stable until the malady passed. Probably, from her perspective, that had made it seem as though I never fell ill. Perhaps she hadn’t even imagined it was possible.

She hesitated and then said, “You were really sick, you know. If that soldier hadn’t found you, you could have died.”

I didn’t want to talk about it. “What are you doing in Bonsaint?” Terrible possibilities filled my mind: more thralls attacking Naimes, the chapel burning, the sisters fleeing.

She frowned. “I ran away, obviously.”

I stared at her, speechless.

She turned slightly red. “I told you I would rather die than stay in Naimes!”

“I didn’t think you were serious.”

Her face hardened. “That’s right. No one ever thinks I’m serious. Everyone thinks I’m just a stupid, silly little girl without a single useful thought in her head. Well, I’ve been planning it for weeks. None of the nuns noticed. You didn’t notice, and you lived with me. They probably haven’t even noticed I’m gone.”

“Of course they’ve noticed. You can’t believe that.” But seeing her expression, I wasn’t so sure. I wondered if she had even told Francine. I’d thought she told Francine everything; I never imagined she was capable of keeping secrets. “You could have gotten possessed.”

“As if you’re one to talk. Anyway, I thought of that. Obviously.” She hugged herself and evasively glanced away, rubbing her arms as though to scrub away my touch. She was still keeping an eye on the corridor.

Of course. The sisters here didn’t know she was a novice. “You’re afraid I might tell someone you’re a runaway,” I realized.