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(Hidden Necromancer 02) The Accused Dead [A] Page 6
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Page 6
A knock on the door sends me scrambling to sit up. It’s an automatic reflex. I would never dare lie down during the day at home. Idleness is not a desirable trait, or so I was taught my whole life. I always had something to do when at home. Now I’m faced with hours on my own with no assigned chores or homework.
“Come in!” I call out.
Jane enters with a faint smile, clearly curious to see how I’m faring. She studies my expression before glancing at the tray on my desk. “You ate everything!”
I had considered joining the others for dinner, but after realizing my father had disowned me I needed time alone. I hadn’t realized how famished I was until the tray arrived with a huge roast beef sandwich stuffed with meat, cheese, and vegetables. I nearly choked when I took too big of a bite.
“It was really good,” I admit, blushing a little. At home, I made sure to never overeat in an attempt to fulfill my father’s edict that I am slender for my future husband.
“Most girls can’t eat when they first arrive, but you’ve been through so much worse than being declared Unclaimed.”
I shiver at the memory of the test and rub the goosebumps that rise on my arms. “It didn’t matter though. I proved my innocence, but I’m still here.”
“Quade is appealing,” Jane says, picking up the tray. “He’s doing everything he can to have his bid accepted.”
“And my father?”
Jane doesn’t look up from the tray. Her fingers appear to tighten on the edges, the blood draining from the tips. “I sent word to Annah to find out what he’s planning in regard to this unfair proclamation. She hasn’t answered yet. Elder Alvus’ housekeeper sent word that he’s adamant that you remain Unclaimed.”
“The Unclaimed know a lot of secrets, don’t they?” There is a whole other world that exists beneath the veneer of piety in the Atonement Settlement. The Unclaimed apparently gather and share information with each other. Actura had alluded to this earlier when she knew about my arrival at the house.
“It’s easy when no one pays attention to them, Ilyse.”
Jane’s expression is dire and I fear the worst.
“What else do you know, Jane?”
“Ilyse, Elder Alvus wants to declare your sister Unclaimed.”
“Why? She’s done nothing wrong! She passed the test, too!”
“He says that the women of your family are tainted. His bias is very evident in every word coming out of his mouth.”
“Why does Elder Alvus hate us so much?” I ask, my voice rough with rage. “Do you know?”
“He hates all women,” Jane replies with a sigh of exasperation. “I suspect he sees us as evil things he must either punish or save. Or perhaps both.”
“He scares me.”
“If you see him here, come to your room immediately. Don’t give him a reason to confront you.”
“He comes here?”
“To see his mistress.” Jane gives me a sardonic smile. “Yes, our defender of piety has a lover that is not his wife.”
I gape at her in disbelief. “What excuse does he use to avoid condemnation?”
“An obscure passage about men finding comfort in the arms of the goddess through her vessels.”
“Wouldn’t that be their wives?”
“Well, since the earlier passage addresses wives as ‘the mothers,’ it was decided by some of the clergy that this one had to do with women who worship the goddess through servitude.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course. Because then they can still claim piety.”
“Exactly.”
“Is... my father...” I hesitate, not certain I want to know.
“Your father is much stricter in his faith,” Jane says swiftly to lessen my suspicions. “I can assure you of that. Annah has adored him for years, but he has never attempted to touch her.”
I’d noticed Annah’s fixation on my father but never doubted his piety. Until now. “And he doesn’t come here? Or another Unclaimed House?”
Jane shakes her head. “Your father is a very strict adherent.”
“Which is why he disowned me.” I clutch my hands on my lap and stare at my frayed nails. I’d caught myself chewing on them earlier, a very old bad habit I haven’t indulged in for such a long time. “I’m not the pious child he thought I was. He knows that I’m sullied.”
Jane stares down at the empty plate and glass on the tray. “You’re not like these dishes. You aren’t soiled and in need of cleansing.”
“I’m not Pious Standing. I kissed Quade in front of everyone.”
A little laugh escapes Jane’s lips. “I heard.”
“I did it so that I wouldn’t end up married to Crofter Beckett.”
“It was a smart move.”
“I don’t care about Pious Standing anymore. I don’t care about any of it!” Tears unexpectedly blind me. I wipe them away in agitation.
“It’s hard to lose everything you once held dear in life. You deserve more in life than to be discarded. I haven’t given up on finding a way to get you to the Academy.”
“I don’t know where I belong, but I know it’s not here. Even though the room is really pretty and I appreciate it, I can’t stay here.”
“We’ll find a way, Ilyse. I promise. But for now, why don’t you come downstairs to the patio. We have a small fire out there and it’s a lovely night. It might soothe your soul to be with the other women.”
At first, I consider refusing, but I’m curious about the secret life of the Unclaimed. I’d imagined their life being grey, dour, and boring, but it appears I was very wrong. “That sounds better than just lying here.”
Jane gives me yet another encouraging smile, but this one reaches her eyes. “It’s that spirit that will help you survive all the difficulties in your life.”
“And there are a lot.”
“You’re doing better than most, Ilyse. I don’t know if I could survive the test. All those creatures howling for my flesh…” She shudders, rattling the dishes on the tray.
My heart aches when I remember Aunt Leticia sacrificing herself for Carrie.
I follow Jane down the hallway. It’s different this time. I can hear voices on the other side of the closed doors. A few are open, so I catch glimpses of other Unclaimed lounging about. Through one doorway, I see two women embracing and kissing.
Jane catches me staring as we pass.
“Some of Unclaimed are happy to escape a marriage to a man. That’s Stefi and Luna. They made sure to insult and upset every man at their Bridal Auctions so they could be together.”
My newfound rebellious spirit sparks at this story. “I like them already.”
Downstairs, Jane points me to a door leading to the patio. “I’ll join you in a bit. Let me drop off this tray and check in with the kitchen staff.”
I’m grateful to have a friend during this difficult time. Jane has proven to be more helpful than I ever could have imagined. I watch her disappear down a narrow hallway and take a deep breath. I push open the door and step onto the patio.
The air is cool against my skin even though tiny sparks from a burning fire float in the evening breeze. Patio chairs are drawn around a fire pit and women of all ages are gathered about chatting and enjoying the night. Torches edge the wide patio, illuminating the pathways that cut through a large garden to the rows of fruit trees lining the wall at the far end. The gate to the narrow passage I snuck through with Carrie just a few nights before catches my eye. A young woman leans against it, appearing to be waiting for someone.
“Here’s the new girl! Come sit with us!” An older woman with ebony skin and thick gray hair in coils waves me over to the circle.
I’m instantly the focus of attention. All the women are dressed far differently from what I’m accustomed to. Many wear trousers beneath long tunics. Others wear long dresses embroidered in ornate designs beneath thick multi-colored shawls. Not one is wearing a bonnet. Most wear their hair long and unfettered. A few sport very short hair that they must hide beneath their bonnets when out and about, for such a boyish style would surely be a reason for punishment.
“You’re the one everyone thought was a necromancer,” a girl with skin as white as paper and hair as orange as a pumpkin says. “Not the girl with the mark on her face who refuses to leave her room.”
There’s a round of introductions. I’m so nervous I instantly forget all the names.
One of the older women with close-cropped silver hair, pale blue eyes, freckles, and tanned skin leans forward and says, “So did you really kiss a man in front of everyone?”
“I didn’t want to marry someone else,” I reply. “I had to do something rash.”
“So you’re involved with the man you kissed?” another woman asks, her pale fingers playing with the ends of her long brown braids.
“Somewhat,” I answer, lifting a shoulder.
“She’s the one that they thought killed Bale,” the redhead says.
“He deserved killing,” the older woman with the thick dreads declares.
“A real rebel,” the short-haired one says with an approving smile. “I like her. Grab a chair. Sit down. Join us.”
I look around for a spare chair just as the back gate opens. All the women twist about to see who is visiting. When I see the familiar black hat and long coat, excitement fills me.
“Excuse me,” I say, then hurry down the flagstone pathway toward Quade.
“Oh, it’s her lover,” someone says.
Several voices chorus, “Ah!”
When I reach Quade, he grips my arms tightly. My hands cup his elbows and the fabric of his coat scratches my palms. He bends at the waist so he can peer into my eyes, clearly worried about me. I’m so happy to see him that the dam holding back my emotions breaks. Tears swim in my e
yes and my knees quiver.
“You okay, Ilyse?”
I nod, locking my knees so I stand tall and straight. “I’m fine,” I lie. “It’s not horrible here. The women are very nice.”
Lifting his eyes, Quade surveys the scene in front of him. He lifts a hand in greeting as the women gathered around the fire pit wave to him. “This is different from what I expected.”
“I know! It’s very, very different.” I notice a bench nestled beneath an apple tree and point to it. “Let’s talk there.”
He gives me an amused look, and I realize how forward I sound.
“It’s noisy around the fire,” I say in haste.
“We need time alone anyway,” he says, but the twinkle in his eye sends a flutter of pleasure through me. “Since we’re conspirators and all that.”
“Exactly!” I hate that my cheeks flush with delight.
The bench is far enough away that the loud conversation is reduced to background noise. The high wall at our backs, the branches bending over our heads, and the waist-high tomato plants in front of us give the illusion of privacy. We settle onto the bench and lapse into silence.
There is a strange tension between us that makes me both happy and petrified. My future hinges so much on the choices we make. Despite our short time with each other, I dread the thought of Quade not being at my side. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. His loyalty means so much to me since my own father won’t stand up for me. Plus, whenever Quade looks at me, I feel inexplicably giddy.
Quade watches the women around the fire with admiration. “It looks like they do their own thing here, huh?”
“They wear trousers, have decorations, and even paint the walls!” I tell him in a rush.
“The scandal!” He’s obviously teasing me.
“I know!” My eyes widen with my enthusiasm and Quade gives me a pleased look. “Some even have short hair.”
“Better not let the Elders know about all that or they’ll be closing this wild place down.”
I grip his wrist with one hand and lean toward him. “Quade, the Elders know. Some of the girls are mistresses. I’m not sure what that means exactly, but I suspect it means they have intimate relations with the Elders.”
“That’s exactly what it means.” He shakes his head with disapproval. “So this is the Elders’ personal playground. I shouldn’t be surprised the place is run by hypocrites. This much piety has to be hiding something lurid.”
“It’s not the Elders’ playground. It’s more like they get to visit the Unclaimed haven. You don’t know what it’s like in there. It’s so beautiful. So much color everywhere. They make their own happiness. It’s so refreshing.”
“You like it here,” Quade states, his look apprehensive.
“I can’t live here,” I say. “You know that. There are some really angry people who are going to come for me. Maybe not tonight, but soon. Too many people think I’m evil.”
“You’re right. It’s only a matter of time. Things weren’t pleasant at the Bridal Auction after you were dragged off.”
Instantly, my worries transfer to him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m protected by my money, Ilyse. I’ve made sufficient donations to have the Elders treat me with some decency. But I sense there’s a limit to how much leeway they’ll give me. I am contesting the interference in our marriage and demanding that my bid be honored. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to take my case before a tribunal and get a ruling in my favor. Then we’ll leave here immediately.”
“Jane wants me to go to the Academy where I’ll be safe.”
“I know. She told me at the Bridal Auction.”
“You don’t like that idea, do you?”
“Well, it is closer than the Enclave, but I don’t know how safe it would be for you. You’re a necromancer. You need training.”
“You want me to go to the Enclave.”
Quade regards me with a somber look and exhales slowly. “It would be safer for you to be trained, Ilyse.”
A tiny bit of suspicion springs into my consciousness. “What if I want to go somewhere else? Would you stop me?”
Quade’s long fingers settle over the crown of his hat and he plucks it off his head. Placing it beside him on the bench, he stares at it for a long moment. I don’t understand the significance of the hat but it’s obviously important to him. Sitting back on the bench, he runs his fingers through his hair, ruffling it so it sticks out at odd angles around his face and neck.
“I was sent to take you back to the Enclave,” he says. “As an Undertaker, my obligation is to the Chantry. My duty is to help Clerics wield their power and keep humanity safe. It’s what I’m sworn to do. So, I should try to stop you if you decide to go somewhere else. Not only for your safety but everyone around you. Understand?”
My response is to scowl. All my life I’ve been told what to do by others. As scary as it might be, I want to make my own decisions. I can’t help but have misgivings about a place I’ve been told horror stories about my whole life. It’s hard to let go of all the teachings that have been an integral part of my life.
“I do understand your position, Quade, but aren’t there necromancers in the Republic?”
“There are, but they’re not attached to the Chantry. They’re self-trained and call themselves Padres.”
“So they’re not dangerous to other people? Because they trained themselves?”
Quade obviously picks up where I’m headed in my line of questioning. “That doesn’t mean they’re safe. They’re a new breed. There’s a lot the Chantry doesn’t know about them.”
“There are rogue necromancers in the Deadlands, too.”
“Yup. And untrained and doing who knows what.”
“But they’re surviving out there. So, a necromancer doesn’t have to belong to the Chantry to learn how to use their powers.”
With a frustrated sigh, Quade nods. “No. They don’t.”
“So I don’t have to go to the Chantry.”
“Ilyse, I know this place filled your head with horrific tales about the Chantry. I know we’re called heretics and worse, but if these gods you believe in are real, they gave you your powers. Have you considered that?”
The devil-women who made the dead rise are a huge part of our belief system. That’s why the Lost Texts is very strict about how women should behave and strive for Pious Standing. Of course, I now see that the fear of the devil-women, who were really necromancers, has kept women subjugated.
“I’m not sure what I believe in,” I answer, and the truth hurts.
Quade leans toward me, his gaze so intense it forces me to look away. “The truth is that you’re in danger. There are people in this settlement that want you dead, and that includes people in power. If you had a better handle on your powers, I’d already be hoisting you over the wall, but you don’t. You need to practice, and that is going to be a very dangerous endeavor. If I can overturn your Unclaimed status, we’ll get married and take the train out of here. If that doesn’t happen, we’ll have to do something more drastic. I’m still discussing options with the Chantry, but all of them are pretty dire.”
I feel so guilty listening to him talk. Defending me could be his undoing in the settlement. There might come a point where his wealth won’t protect him. “Maybe you should just leave, Quade. If anything happens to you, I won’t be able to forgive myself.”
“I’m doing my duty, Ilyse,” he answers. “I’m helping a necromancer.”
His words sting. I press my lips together to keep from saying something out of hurt. There’s a good chance that everything he’s done is for the Chantry and has nothing to do with me.
“Hey,” he whispers, his hand closing over mine. The many silver rings on his fingers are strangely warm. “Ilyse, I’m not just an Undertaker, but your friend.”
I finally look at him and again find it hard to meet his gaze. “If you’re my friend, you’ll let me decide where to go once I escape here.”
Pressing his lips together, he stares steadily at my face. After several long seconds, he inclines his chin. “Okay. You decide. But you need to seriously consider the Chantry.”
The door to the passage opens again. I don’t pay attention to the newcomer since Quade is my only friend other than Jane, but when there is a commotion and a familiar voice, I immediately stand and move to where I can see the gate.