The Ciphers of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood #2)(17)

“When you told me you wanted to help, I thought it was a sign of mock humility or something. I did not think you actually knew how to wash clothes.”

Maia pulled up the wet garment and twisted it hard, wringing out the moisture. “I spent the better part of two years at Lady Shilton’s manor in Comoros. Do you know who she is?”

“I have not heard the name,” said Celia apologetically.

“She is Lady Deorwynn’s mother. I was a servant in her household. Lower than a servant, actually. I did many chores there.”

“Even though you are the king’s daughter?”

“Even so,” Maia said. “The difference now is I am choosing to help. Before, I did not have a choice. There is dignity in working hard. It helps me think. As much as I like poring over the tomes, I also want to do something.”

“Like what, Maia? Besides washing clothes, that is.”

“Washing clothes is something tangible I can do to serve Suzenne. She has given up so much for me, willingly or not. But there are other things I wish to do . . . so many things. That hill over there, for example,” Maia said, straightening and pointing. “There is a tower or something on the crest. I want to see it.”

“That is the Tor,” Celia said. “It is not a short walk to get there, but the vista is beautiful.”

“The Tor,” Maia said. She had heard the name before, but she knew not where. “But what was built on it?”

“A tower. When the ships returned from Assinica, a tower was built to honor two Aldermastons who died on that hill. There is a walkway that goes up the side of the Tor . . . a path with paving stones. When folk visit for Whitsunday, it is a popular place to stroll and climb. There are watchers on the tower, though. Watchers for the Aldermaston who look for approaching ships or soldiers.”

“I wondered what it was,” Maia said, dunking the dress again and scrubbing. “Can you make the water warmer, Celia?” she asked.

The wretched flushed. “I am not as Gifted as you with the Medium.”

“Try.”

Celia paused in her work. She set the chemise in the basket and turned to the Leering at the head of the trough. Clasping her hands and bowing her head, she shut her eyes. The eyes of the Leering slowly started to glow. The girl’s cheek muscles bunched up, and her forehead wrinkled with intense concentration, then little gurgles of water started to drip from the Leering. The trickle increased slowly, beginning to churn the water still in the trough. A haze of steam began to rise up from inside. Maia waited, silently, watching as the girl struggled to tame the Leering. It must have felt strange for Celia to use her talent here. Her studies with the Ciphers were kept secret, so she could not practice in front of the other lavenders.

Finally Celia opened her eyes, looking at Maia with chagrin. “You would have done it much faster.”

Maia shook her head. “Well done, Celia. Why do you close your eyes?”

“Habit, I suppose. We are not allowed to see the maston sign when a Gifting happens, so I have always felt that when I call the Medium . . . I should be . . . I suppose . . . reverent is the right word.” She started washing another one of Suzenne’s garments. “Do you think I should not?”

“If it works for you that way, why change? The Medium works with all of us differently.”

Celia sighed. “Sometimes I am not even sure I understand what the Medium is. The Aldermaston’s wife says that you can feel it in your head and in your heart. When I use it, I do feel a little . . . tingling inside my breast. But I have not heard any voices in my head. I wish I knew for certain what it felt like for the Medium to talk to me. It is confusing.”

Maia smiled and chuckled to herself. “You know, the Aldermaston has been tutoring me in the evenings,” she said. “These last few days have been a feast of learning for me. Maybe this will help you understand. He explained that light and dark cannot exist at the same time. You can be in a dark room but once you light a candle, the darkness is chased away.” She stopped scrubbing the clothes and set down the work. She looked at Celia seriously. “The Medium is everywhere here in Muirwood. I sense it not only in the Leering right there, but in the trees of the Cider Orchard. I sense it in the gardens and trails. I sense it in the bread that Collett bakes. In the birdsong that comes each morning. The Medium is all around us, Celia. It is even right here,” she said, clutching the damp cloth.

“In the laundry?” Celia asked hesitantly.

“Yes, the Medium is in the laundry. It is in the work that we are doing. We are serving someone else. We are washing another’s clothes. And the Medium is here, right now. With us.” Maia’s heart burned inside her with the passion of new certainty. “You are uncertain about it because you have lived without darkness. You were abandoned here as a baby and have spent your entire life within the Medium’s glow.” She shook her head. “It was not until I came to Muirwood that I realized such a place existed. I have visited other abbeys, to be sure. But never for long, and I have never lived in one. I realize now that I felt the Medium as a young child, back before my mother began to lose her babes. I vaguely remember it. For most of my life, I have been living in a box, nailed shut, and thrown into a well.” Maia stared down at her hands. “Only now do I see what light truly is. You will understand it yourself once you leave Muirwood. You will long for this feeling . . . this place.”