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The Unblessed Dead Page 10
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“No, ma’am. He did not.” Annah begins to slice the bread, and it feels odd to see her perform the task instead of my father.
“I will do that, Annah. Bring me the bread and the knife.”
Flustered, Annah hastily obeys, then hurries from the room to return to her duties. I’ve noticed before that Annah is intimidated by my aunt. I wonder if it’s because she secretly covets my aunt’s position.
My aunt finishes the task. She’s clearly upset and wields the knife with far too much force, creating uneven slices. Carrie and I watch her worriedly while Rennon regards the bread with hunger.
“Why would father be summoned?” Carrie dares to ask.
My aunt sets the knife down with quivering fingers. “To fulfill his duty as a member of the Council of Crats.”
Carrie stares at her in confusion.
“They convene the Council of Crats when there has been a serious crime in the settlement,” she further explains. “Which is a very rare occurrence. The last time was when my sister…” Realizing she’s saying too much, my aunt falls silent.
“Does that mean they found a necromancer?” Carrie is so bold I’m not certain if it is foolhardy or brave.
My aunt’s fingers pluck nervously at the silverware next to her plate. It clunks against the stoneware and she becomes aware of what she’s doing. Setting her hands in her lap, she takes a deep breath.
“Let us eat,” she says, ignoring Carrie’s question completely.
“So they did find a necromancer?” Rennon excitedly asks. “Did the necromancer make all the Unblessed come to the wall?”
“Rennon, I know just as much as you do. This topic is not suitable for breakfast,” my aunt answers, the sharpness in her voice returning. Her eyes, though, are haunted and fearful. “May the gods bless us on this day.”
“Amen,” we reply.
Rennon is a little late in answering, disappointment on his face. Of course, the idea of a necromancer must seem exciting to him. He’s a little boy without any true understanding of how dangerous the world is.
“May the gods bless our food.”
“Amen.”
“May the gods bless our family.”
“Amen.”
“Let us eat.”
I force myself to eat breakfast, keeping to the exact same portion I consume every day. I notice Carrie does the same. My aunt, though, mostly moves her food around on her plate. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I’m convinced she glances toward me more often than usual.
After our meal, Carrie and I put on our capes and bonnets for our walk to school. My aunt makes certain Rennon is settled at his small desk for his studies before joining us. Since our father is not at home, it falls to her to escort us. Her cape and bonnet are gray to match her dress. She looks very dour in her garb and for the first time I wonder why we must be restricted to certain colors. Conformity is an important part of our belief system, but I wonder what my aunt would look like in a more cheerful color.
“Hurry. We’re late as it is,” she mutters.
Without a man to accompany us, we do not acknowledge anyone passing us. We keep our heads down, and our gazes focused on where we step. Since we are all women, we walk in a single line with my aunt in the center. Everyone born in the settlement understands the foot traffic must be orderly. This morning the roads are more congested than normal and the pace is a little more urgent today. After yesterday’s attack of the Unblessed, I suspect many people didn’t sleep well and are leaving their homes later than usual and scurrying to make up the time. It’s a very rare case of chaos in our streets and it’s unsettling.
When we arrive at the school, my aunt unexpectedly takes our hands in hers. They’re cool and a little clammy.
“Whatever is happening in the settlement is not your concern. It will be handled by the Council of Crats. Maintain your humble manner and concentrate on your studies.” She hesitates, and I see a rare flash of anger in her eyes. “If there is a necromancer in the settlement, we must show everyone that we are Plain, Humble, and Pious women in word and deed and not guilty of any dark magic. Understand?”
“You think they’ll come for us,” Carrie states, her eyes widening.
“Do as I say,” our aunt answers before dropping our hands and leaving us at the gate to the schoolyard.
I watch her depart with my heart beating harder in my chest.
Already the students are filing into the entrance. We hurry to reach the tail end of the crowd.
“They found Bale, didn’t they?” Carrie says under her breath.
“I don’t know. Maybe Father was called away because of the Unblessed at the walls yesterday. Maybe it’s something as simple as someone saw Quade touch me.”
“Then it would have been the Elders to summon him,” Carrie reminds me. “It’s something much bigger than Quade touching your arm.”
We near the other students and Carrie stumbles. She catches my arm, pulling me close. Her breath is hot against my ear as she whispers, “Remember what Quade and Aunt Leticia said.” Recovering, she rushes to join her classmates.
My stomach lurching with queasiness, I follow. To my dismay, Prudence waits for me near the steps. I grow even more uneasy when I see the desperate look on her face. Dark blue eyes fastening on me like a vise, she pushes through the other girls to face me.
In a voice that is nearly a hiss, she says, “What happened to Bale?”
“Wha-What?” I cannot keep my surprise from my expression.
“He told me he saw you yesterday and that you signaled to him you’d meet him at the cemetery,” she answers in hushed tones.
“That’s not true.” I recoil, insulted that Bale misread anything I said or did as an invitation for his amorous attention. It’s hard not to shudder at the memory of his groping hands. “We were in the same shop when the Unblessed attacked, but I didn’t indicate that I would meet him.”
“He told me you spoke to him,” Prudence insists.
Blinking with confusion, I ransack my mind trying to remember if I’d spoken to him at all. Then I recall telling him not to speak to me and his wide grin in response. Had he taken that moment as some sort of agreement to meet him?
“You’ve never spoken to him before and he said you finally did yesterday. After I told you again about how much he likes you. He said he thought you were going to the cemetery.”
“Why would I go there?” I ask, faking confusion.
“Oh, come now.” Prudence rolls her eyes. “I’ve told you of the kisses I’ve had there in the past. And I told you all about the illicit things that happen there.”
“I don’t recall anything about the cemetery.”
“I know I mentioned the cemetery. Why are you lying?” Prudence frowns at me. “Bale was convinced you were going to meet him there.”
“You told me about marital relations, and made it sound much more horrific than anything my aunt told me. I would never do anything like that with someone I’m not married to. Especially in a cemetery!”
“He was certain you signaled him. You’re so Pious you’ve never spoken to him before, so he was convinced it was a sign!”
“I was flustered by the Unblessed Dead attacking the settlement. I never would have violated our ways otherwise. And I’d rather you didn’t tell anyone. My Bridal Auction is soon and I’d like to preserve my Pious Standing.”
Prudence stares at me with such intensity it’s as if she’s able to read my very thoughts. Thankfully, it seems only Quade can do that. Finally, she looks away, her shoulders sagging. “You haven’t asked me why I’m worried about Bale.”
I realize she’s right, and panic enfolds me.
“You were too busy defending your purity to even ask,” Prudence continues.
“Is something wrong with Bale?” I hope my question sounds like genuine concern. “Is he okay?”
“No, he’s missing. After dinner, we went to bed as usual. He slipped out during the night. When he didn’t come down to breakfast, my f
ather checked his room. His bed wasn’t even slept in and his window was open. The wardens are looking for him. I’m really, really scared, Ilyse. I was hoping you’d know where he is.” Again, her piercing stare returns to my face.
“I was home in bed. I didn’t see Bale. I intend to keep my Purity and Pious Standing until I’m married.”
Maybe I’m imagining it, but I don’t think she believes my protest.
The cluster of girls entering the school has dwindled to a few latecomers. I fidget, wanting to escape this awkward conversation. I’m afraid Prudence believes I’m lying.
“We should go inside. We don’t want to besmirch your Pious Standing,” Prudence says without a smile.
I follow her inside and up the stairs to the upper floors. She keeps several steps ahead of me instead of staying at my side to chat. My heart sinks and I fear that I’ve somehow incriminated myself.
When we enter our first class, Prudence immediately takes her seat, and ignores me. This behavior continues throughout the morning until lunch. I eat alone, for Prudence is nowhere to be seen in the cafeteria. As I eat my sandwich, I find myself going over every single detail from the day before. Did someone else overhear me speak to Bale? Will that one comment be seen as some kind of secret code? A chilling thought occurs to me. What if I become suspect? Only my sister and Quade know what happened and I’ve done nothing else to bring suspicion on me.
And then I remember.
I stuff the rest of my sandwich into my mouth and rush to the main building. I don’t have an appointment, but I hope Schoolmistress Simmons will be in her office. When I reach her doorway, I rap on the door and wait anxiously for her to answer. My stomach is in knots and I feel like I’m about to retch. Wobbling on my feet, I lean against the door and rap again.
Schoolmistress Simmons opens the door, and catches me as I pitch forward. “Oh, Ilyse!”
Embarrassed, I regain my balance. “Apologies, Schoolmistress.”
“I was reading while I ate my lunch and didn’t hear you at first. Come in.”
I step inside the small office, and she shuts the door behind me. On her desk is her tablet, not a book. The curtains are drawn back on the window behind her desk and a small solar panel leans against the glass. She must use it to power her tech. An abandoned solar panel array is outside the settlement. I learned about it in my history lessons when I was taught about how the Atonement Settlement abandoned the tech that destroyed the world. I’d never considered how difficult it must be for her to live her life.
She notices me staring at her tablet.
“I like to stay informed of the news from other settlements,” she explains.
I want to ask her what the news is today, but fear holds me back. My religious training is ingrained in me. Tech is evil and Atonement Settlement is my home. Other places are not my concern. Lifting my eyes to Jane’s face, I wonder if her unorthodox usage of tech is because she experienced the world beyond the Atonement Settlement. It appears that everything is far different out there than inside our walls. Our history courses only covered the Atonement Settlement and I’m beginning to recognize my view of the world is very narrow.
“Ilyse, sit down. You look upset.”
I sit down sharply. I force my hands to rest gently on my lap and not turn into fists of frustration.
“Have you reconsidered, Ilyse? Would you like for me to speak to your father about you attending the Academy?” she asks when I don’t speak first.
Sitting forward on my chair, I rest my hands on the edge of her desk. “I need you to erase everything about my application to the Academy.” If I fall under suspicion because Bale talked to me, I don’t want there to be any sort of evidence that might indicate I am not truly Pious Standing.
Her mouth opens in an O and she stares at me in surprise. “Ilyse, are you sure? You’re such a smart young woman. All your scores are very high. You could do so much more with your life. You could use your schooling for more than budgeting for a household. If you want a husband and children, those can come later after you find a career you enjoy. I was blessed that my love of teaching was something I shared with my husband. I would like to see you enjoy the same.”
“My father will never allow me to go to the Academy. He already has plans about who I should marry. He can’t discover that I considered leaving here. Please. I don’t want my father angry with me.” My words are vehement because they’re partially true. I curse Bale for having the nerve to speak to me in the shop. He had absolutely no respect for me, which was confirmed when he assaulted me.
“Your hands are shaking. Is something wrong, Ilyse?”
“I don’t want anything to disrupt my future,” I answer truthfully.
With a sad sigh, she begins to swipe and tap the screen with a finger. I anxiously watch the images on the surface change. The sooner she erases any sign of my application, the safer I’ll be.
A rap at the door startles us.
Before she can call out, the door swings open, revealing two wardens in their crisp navy blue uniforms and black caps. They’re both young men, probably in the first year of their mandatory service.
“Schoolmistress Simmons, we have a writ from the Council of Crats,” one of the men says.
“For me?” She presses a hand against her chest in surprise.
“No, ma’am. For one of your students.” The speaker thrusts a piece of paper at her.
Taking the writ, she reads it with gradually widening eyes. She lowers the paper, covering the tablet surface. “Ilyse, they’re here for you.”
I don’t hear what she says next, for the floor comes rushing up to meet my face and the world turns dark.
Chapter 9
The Wardens
“Of course she’s upset. You’ve given her a fright,” Schoolmistress Simmon’s voice says through the murky water drowning me.
“It wasn’t intentional, I can assure you, Schoolmistress,” a man answers, his voice defensive, yet commanding.
Light draws me back to full awareness. I’m not drowning at all, but lying on the floor with people gathered about me. The sight of the navy blue uniforms of the wardens sends a bolt of dread through me again, but this time I manage to not slip into the safety of unconsciousness.
Kneeling at my side, Schoolmistress Simmons’ fingers are pressed to my wrist, reading my pulse. The two wardens bend over me, their young faces concerned but also impatient.
“Ilyse, move slowly. You hit your head when you fell,” Schoolmistress Simmon’s warns when I attempt to sit up.
“What happened?” I groggily ask.
I remember speaking to her about my concerns and then the door opening.
“You fainted when the wardens arrived with a writ for you,” she answers. Something in her gaze is warning and I feel uneasy. “You were already highly emotional because of our discussion about your final exam before your Bridal Auction.”
I nod. “I remember. I don’t want to fail my father.”
“We need to take her to the Council of Crats,” one of the wardens says. “You need to get her on her feet. Now.”
“You gave her a fright during a delicate time. You should have more patience,” Schoolmistress Simmons retorts. “She needs to lie down for a bit longer before getting up. One of you get her some water.”
I feel disoriented and a bit woozy. Lack of sleep and stress has worn me down this last week. “I’m sorry I fainted.”
“Stress can be taxing,” she says. “Every young potential bride is a bundle of nerves before her Bridal Auction.”
I’m thankful for the cover she’s providing. My mind is still in shambles and I’m horribly queasy. It’s best that she speaks instead of me.
The younger of the two wardens brings me a cup of water from the fountain in the hallway, and is very careful not to touch me when he sets it down on the floor beside me. I’ve seen him occasionally at Wednesday Gathering. He’s one of those boys that are almost too pretty, with rosy cheeks and lips, dark hair a
nd skin, and thick eyelashes over gray eyes. I suspect he’s kind at heart, but his uniform fills me with dread.
The older of the two men, his white face flushed red, stares at me with fierce pale blue eyes. Moving slowly, I roll to one side to claim the cup. I sip the cold water and it helps a little. Schoolmistress Simmons hands me a sugar cookie from the lunch box on her desk, and I take it gratefully. The first bite is heavenly.
“The sugar will help,” she says with an encouraging smile.
“When will she be ready to leave? We were told to bring her straight away for questioning,” the older warden says irritably.
Leaning forward to see his badge, Schoolmistress Simmons says, “Warden Strom, let her recover. Why the urgency? What could the Council of Crats possibly want with her?”
“That isn’t your concern,” Warden Strom, the one with the pale blue eyes, replies. “Now, get her on her feet.”
I appreciate Schoolmistress Simmons’ gentleness as she helps me off the floor. I feel unsteady, a bit nauseous, and it takes a moment for me to find my balance. She picks up the cup of water off the floor and hands it to me.
“Finish drinking the water and eating the cookie to stabilize your blood sugar,” she instructs.
I can see that my mentor’s wife is clearly concerned about the situation. Of course, she can’t imagine why I’d be summoned by writ to the Council of Crats, but I am fairly certain it has to do with Prudence not being at lunch. I have an awful feeling that she may have reported me for speaking to her brother.
“I’m uncomfortable with releasing her to you without a proper chaperone,” Schoolmistress Simmons says. “I should send a messenger to her father.”
“We’re wardens, ma’am, and in obedience to the Lost Texts. Also, her father is aware of the writ,” Strom answers in a peeved manner.
The cookie no longer tastes delicious in my mouth, but like ash. What did Prudence say? What do the wardens believe I did? I remember Quade’s admonishment and I mentally prepare myself to evade incriminating myself at all costs. I have been Pious Standing all my life in the eyes of my community. The only dark mark in my ledger is my mother’s necromancy and I was formally absolved of suspicion.