The Ciphers of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood #2)(8)

—Richard Syon, Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey





CHAPTER THREE




Suzenne



A gentle hand on her shoulder awoke her.

“Maia, it is time.”

Her eyes blinked open to smothering darkness, the shadows dispelled by a single fat candle. The room in the manor house was like a cave, the darkness thick and oppressive. Maia struggled to remember where she was. For the past few weeks, falling asleep had meant a Myriad One might wrench control of her body and plunge her mind into vivid dreams of the past. But now she was free of the being that had taken root in her. She could not remember any dream, nor could she remember falling asleep. The last thing she remembered was lying awake, listening to the sound of Suzenne’s breathing.

“Thank you,” Maia said, brushing strands of hair from her eyes as she sat up. There were two small beds in the room, both set into tall wooden stands with sculpted poles and gossamer veils. A large hearth was against the far wall, a Leering carved into it. She remembered Suzenne dousing it with her mind before they had climbed into their respective beds. The two had not spoken at all before they had gone to bed, as Suzenne had needed to pack her belongings and move them to the room. She had several chests, and she had spent hours hanging beautiful gowns in the wardrobe. Suzenne was so quiet and busy that Maia had felt a sense of awkwardness in speaking to her. She hoped they would get a chance to get to know each other later.

After setting the candle down on a nearby table, Suzenne quickly removed her nightgown and chose one of the many elegant gowns from the wardrobe, though she examined several before deciding on one. Maia had nothing to wear but the clothes that had been given to her—the wretched gown and a nightgown for sleeping.

“May I borrow a comb?” Maia asked softly.

Suzenne startled and then nodded, gesturing to the small table where an assortment had been set out the previous night. Maia quickly combed through her hair, pausing a moment to finger her earrings, which had been part of a jewelry set given to her by her husband. She had left the rest of the jewels behind when she fled Naess, but she had been unable to part with these. For a moment, she was lost in the memory of how Collier’s fingers had trembled as he tried to put them in her ears. Sighing, she let her hand fall, wondering where he was sleeping at that moment, deep in the northern kingdom of Naess. What would he feel when he woke up? Did he hate her?

After dressing in a gown just as opulent as the one she had been wearing earlier, Suzenne quickly scooped some water onto her face, dried it with the towel, and reached for the candle.

“We must go and light the Leerings,” she said to Maia. “I always go to the cloisters a little early to make sure things are ready.” She paused, her expression uncertain. “If . . . that is all right with you?”

“Yes, of course,” Maia said, feeling the awkwardness stretch between them.

Suzenne smiled. “We bring our tomes,” she said, grabbing a heavy leather satchel with a strap, which she slung around her shoulder. Maia had been given one as well, so she did the same, and was impressed by the weight of it against the small of her back. Suzenne then led the way down the darkened hall to the Aldermaston’s private chamber. There was not a soul moving about, and their feet crunched softly on the fresh floor rushes. After delivering a short knock on the door, Suzenne opened it and Maia followed her inside. A small Leering provided illumination for the Aldermaston, who sat at his desk, poring over a tome.

“Good morrow,” he bid them, motioning to the anteroom door.

Maia smiled at him and he gave her a tender look. Then he glanced back down at the tome, his eyes scrutinizing the glimmering page.

The anteroom was a small waiting chamber with a padded bench and a side table. There was a nice carpet on the floor, which Suzenne lifted, revealing a trapdoor. She handed the candle to Maia and then pulled the handle to open the door. She started to hurry down the steps. Maia reached down to return the candle to her and started down after her.

She was about to close the trapdoor above her head, but Suzenne stopped her. “Leave it open for when we return. We must always be very cautious and quiet and not raise suspicion that we are learners.”

Together they walked down a darkened corridor that smelled of earth and must. It was a strong smell, but not an offensive one. The tunnel was long and narrow, just wide enough for them to walk side by side. Partway down, another pathway intersected theirs.

“That way is to the abbey,” Suzenne said, pointing. “Our path will bring us to the cloisters.”

Her words had been very efficient so far. Not condescending, yet certainly not inviting. Suzenne reminded Maia of some of the little girls she had known as a child, playmates who’d let her win at every game. Always there had been awareness of who she was, who her father was. She had been sent to live in Pry-Ree and help administer her father’s policies when she was still very young—younger than Suzenne had been when she first started learning at Muirwood. Her contact with others her own age had been even more limited there. And then she had been banished and no one had dared befriend her. Throughout her life, her closest relationships had always been with those who were older than her. Except, of course, her husband. Maia’s mind cringed at the thought and she pushed it away. She did not want to think about Collier at that moment; she could not bear to. She bit her lip and said nothing.