Guardian of the Gate (20 page)

She shrugs. “Don’t you want to know my name?” She is petulant now, and I see that she is probably no more than twelve.

“Of course. I was just going to ask. You have such pretty hair.” I reach up and touch a shimmering lock. It glows gold even in the faint light of the candles, and I try not to feel the pain near my heart. “It reminds me of a dear friend of mine.”

“Not the one they have in hiding?” She seems angry at the comparison.

“I don’t know where they have her. I only know that she is as dear to me as a sister.” I decide to change the subject. “So? What
is
your name?”

“Astrid.” She says it with the satisfaction of one who finds her own name pleasing.

I smile at her, though it feels more like a grimace. “It’s a beautiful name.”

My mind, sufficiently warmed up with talk of hair and names, is finally moving. I try to rise onto my elbows, hoping to dress and find Dimitri and the others, but my arms wobble underneath me until I fall back onto the pillow.

But that is not the worst of it.

The worst of it is the sheet, which falls to my waist as I attempt to rise, revealing my shockingly bare upper body. I grasp for the edge of the sheet, raising it quickly to my neck and realizing with true horror how soft and crisp the sheets are against my entire body. Or more accurately, against my entirely
bare
body.

It takes me a moment to formulate the words. When I do, they come out more a sputter than a question. “Where are my clothes?”

Astrid giggles again. “You would have preferred sleeping in your traveling attire?”

“No, but… surely someone could have found me a dressing gown of some kind… a shift… anything at all? Or do you not
have clothes here on Altus?” I regret the bite of my words but am filled with mortifying visions of a stranger stripping me bare as a babe.

Astrid eyes me with blatant curiosity, as if I am an exotic animal on display. “Certainly we have clothing, but why would you want to wear it while you sleep? Wouldn’t it be uncomfortable?”

“Of course not!” I snap. “One is supposed to sleep in nightclothes!”

It is a ridiculous conversation, like trying to describe color to someone who cannot see, and I ignore the devilish voice in my head that sees reason in her argument and cannot help noticing the cool slide of the sheets against my naked skin.

“If you say so.” Astrid’s smile is sly, as if she sees straight through my argument and knows exactly what I am thinking.

I lift my chin, trying to reclaim some of my dignity. “Yes, well… I’ll need help locating my clothing, please.”

She tips her head playfully. “I should think you’ll need to eat and rest a bit before resuming normal activity.”

“I have things to which I must attend. People I need to see.”

She shakes her head. “I’m afraid not. I have strict instructions to see that you rest and eat. Besides, you see how it is; you are too weak to be about just yet.”

I am suddenly weary of Astrid’s sly giggles and knowing glances.

“I’d like to see Una, please.” I wonder if she will be offended, but she rises with only a sigh.

“Very well. I shall ask her to come to you. Is there anything I can get you while you wait?”

I shake my head, wondering if a gag for her condescending mouth would be too much to ask.

She leaves the room without another word, and I wait in a silence so total I wonder if there is a world outside the room at all. I do not hear voices or footsteps or the clank of silver on porcelain. Nothing to indicate that people are living, eating, or breathing outside of my room.

I look around, clutching the sheet to my chest, until the faint sound of graceful footsteps approaches the door. It swings open without a sound, and I marvel that such a door — it looks as if it was carved out of a giant oak — can move without a creak.

Una closes it quietly behind her. I do not know her at all, and yet I am happy to see her as she approaches the bed. She emanates goodness and serenity, something I somehow remember even from my addled, half-awake state the last time we spoke.

“Hello,” she says, smiling. “I’m so happy you’re awake.”

I see in her eyes that she is, and I return her smile. “Thank you for coming. I…” I throw a glance at the door. “You were very good to me while I slept.”

She laughs and it travels all the way to her eyes in a sparkle. “Astrid can be a bit much, can she not? I had something else I needed to attend to, and I didn’t want to leave you alone. Was she a terrible pest?”

“Well… not
terrible.
”

She grins. “Hmmm, I see. That bad, was she?” She looks at the water cup on the bedside table. “At least she had the good sense to give you water. You must be dying of thirst and very hungry besides!”

I have not thought of food until this moment, but the second Una mentions it, my stomach twists with emptiness.

“I’m starving!” I tell her.

“It is no wonder!” she says, rising. “You have been asleep for nearly two days.” She moves to a wardrobe at the far side of the room, talking as she goes. “I’ll set you out some clothes and fetch you food and drink. We will have you right as rain in no time.”

I try again to rise on my elbows, and this time I manage it. It is the first time I have gotten a glimpse of the whole room. From this angle, it does not seem as enormous as it did when the shadows hid its far corners. It is sparsely furnished, with only the wardrobe, a small chest of drawers, and a simple writing table and chair in addition to the bed and night table. A heavily draperied window rises from the floor all the way to the ceiling high overhead. The walls are stone. I can smell them, cool and musty, now that I am coherent, and I somehow know that they have sheltered the Sisters for centuries. The thought brings me to the reason for our journey.

“How is my Aunt Abigail?” I ask Una from across the room.

She turns a little so that I can see her face. Her brow creases with worry. “Not well, I’m afraid. The Elders are doing all they
can, but…” She shrugs. “It is the way of things, is it not?” It makes sense, of course, for Aunt Abigail must be quite old, but even Una sounds sad.

“May I see her?” I ask.

She closes the doors to the wardrobe and walks back toward the bed with a garment draped over her arm. “She’s sleeping. She has been asking for you for days. Was unable to sleep, if the truth is told, until she knew you had arrived safely. Now that she is finally comfortable, it would be kindest to let her rest. You have my word, though, that you will be summoned the moment she awakens.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

“No. Thank
you
.” She meets my eyes with a smile that I return as she lays the garments at the end of the bed. “There, now. Put these on while I get you something to eat. There is water for washing on the bureau.”

“Yes, but…” I do not want to be rude in the face of her hospitality. “What of my own clothes?”

“They’re being laundered,” she says. “Besides, I think you’ll find these decidedly more comfortable.” There is a twinkle in her eye, and I catch the slightest air of Astrid, minus the hint of malice I thought I recognized in the other girl’s eyes.

I nod. “All right, then. Thank you.”

She smiles in answer and turns to leave, closing the door quietly behind her.

I wait a moment before daring to leave my bed. Already I feel weak, and I have done nothing more than rise to a half-sitting position and speak to Una. I have a vague recollection
of falling on the stone pathway leading to the top of the island in the moments before I lost consciousness. I am mortified at the memory and fervently hope that I will not collapse on the floor of my room.

I begin by throwing back the covers and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The room is surprisingly warm, even in my state of nakedness. The rush of cold air I expect without the covers does not come, and when I manage to place my feet on the stone floor it, too, is warm.

Holding on to the bedside table, I lift myself ever so carefully to a standing position. A wave of dizziness hits me, but it only last a few seconds. When it passes, I shuffle to the end of the bed on limbs stiff from lack of use, the adder stone resting wantonly between my naked breasts. Even alone as I am, I cannot help but feel self-conscious, but when I reach the clothes that Una has laid out for me, I become certain that there must be some mistake.

Either that, or someone is having a good laugh at my expense.

“You didn’t leave me everything! I’m missing… all kinds of things!”

Una puts a tray laden with bread, cheeses, and fruit on the night table and makes her way to where I sit on the bed. Her soft lilac robe, identical to the one I am wearing, swirls around her feet and against her body. I catch an outline of the womanly figure underneath along with my first hint that there has not, after all, been a mistake.

She looks me up and down. “It doesn’t look like you are missing anything.”

I feel embarrassment tint my cheeks. “But there’s not enough of it!”

She tips her head with a smile. “There are undergarments and a robe. What else do you require?”

I stand up, wobbling a little until my remaining dizziness
passes. “Oh, I don’t know… some trousers? A gown? And how about some shoes and stockings? Or am I supposed to go barefoot?”

“Lia…” I startle at the use of my name. “Oh, may I call you Lia? It’s so much less stuffy than Amalia.”

I nod and she continues.

“I will provide you with sandals when we leave the room, but while you are here at the Sanctuary, you don’t need anything else. Besides,” she says, raising her eyebrows, “I took your clothes to the laundry, and there
are
quite a lot of them! Is it not uncomfortable to be so encumbered all the time?”

I cannot help feeling a bit indignant. Here I have thought myself an independent young woman, ever freer since my days at Wycliffe, yet Una has turned that notion on its ear.

Ignoring her question, I straighten my back and try not to sound like I am sulking. “Very well. But I would like my own clothing back in case I should require it.”

She heads for the door. “I’ll fetch it while you take breakfast.”

I call out just before she closes the door behind her. “I’ll have you know I wear breeches instead of skirts when I ride!”

I catch her knowing smile as she shuts the door and have the distinct feeling that she is quite amused with my puritan ideals.

“Luisa will be happy to see you,” Una says. “As will your guide, Edmund, though he is attending to business, as I understand it.”

We are walking the length of a long stone hallway exposed to the elements save for a roof. It reminds me of the palazzi I saw when traveling in Italy with Father.

I notice that Una has not mentioned Sonia, and though I imagine she is trying to be tactful, it is Sonia who weighs most on my mind.

“What of my other friend?” I turn my head to her as we walk, hoping to catch a nuance in her expression that will tell me something her words do not.

She sighs, appraising me with her eyes. I wonder if she will be honest or gentle. “She is not well, Lia, but I will save the details for Brother Markov. His position is such that he will likely know more than I would anyway.”

Brother Markov.
I wonder about the title and the veiled reference to Dimitri’s position, but Sonia is foremost in my mind.

“May I see her?”

Una shakes her head. “Not today.”

There is such finality in her tone that I do not bother arguing. I shall ask Dimitri instead.

Una looks up as a gentleman, full-lipped and sporting a devilish grin, approaches us on the walkway. His breeches are snug, his white tunic fitted through the shoulders.

“Good morning, Una.”

“Good morning, Fenris,” Una answers. It is quite obvious she is flirting.

Once we are a safe distance from the retreating gentleman, I turn to look at her. “Who was
that?
”

“One of the Brothers. One of the more… notorious among their rank, actually. I have no intention of seeing him, but he has such a reputation that I quite like giving him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Really? I’m impressed!” I laugh. “And who are the Brothers?”

“The Brothers are exactly that — our Brothers.”

“Fenris is your brother?”

She laughs. “Not
my
brother.
A
Brother. That is, he was born to one of the Sisters and has not yet decided if he will leave to make his way in your world or stay and serve the cause of the Sisterhood.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Una stops walking, placing a hand on my arm so that I stop as well. “The Sisters are not bound to Altus. We may make a life in your world, as your mother and aunt did, if we choose. But even staying on the island does not mean our lives cease moving forward. We still fall in love, marry, and have children, and those children must also choose their own paths when they come of age.”

I still do not understand where a gentleman such as Fenris enters into the equation. “But who are they? The Brothers?”

She raises her brows. “You do not imagine the Sisters give birth only to females, do you?”