Mia stood, praying for strength, groaning at the heaviness in her joints. She took Alma by the hand, stumbling toward the open door, the rope trailing more behind her with every step.
Mia took painful, heavy steps. The door seemed to move further away with each one. Mia did not have the strength. She stumbled, forcing herself back up. A wolf stepped into the clearing, too near. Mia’s heart beat faster, her breath burning in her chest.
Alma moved in front of her, still grasping her hand, and pulled. Mia followed, letting Alma’s strength overpower her dead muscles. Alma pulled Mia to the door. Mia pushed a fist into her chest, trying to breathe. Pain squeezed at her ribs.
Mia fell to the floor as Hilda closed the door, scolding the wolves for coming too near. The last thing Mia saw was Hilda leaning over her with hollow eyes and sunken cheeks. Mia remembered raising her hand, pointing to Alma.
“Her name is Alma,” Mia said, slipping away. “Please do not let her die.”
Chapter Twenty
Stefan poured fresh water into a bowl and scrubbed until his face and neck glowed red. He had looked into Ava’s eyes in the glowing white moonlight and had seen himself. He believed everything he had been told and too late realized not everything had been true. Not about God. Not about salvation and sin.
Bastion sighed, running his hands down his robe, down his vest, smoothing out wrinkles. Stefan took a moment to smooth out wrinkles too, with extra care to pick at stray hairs. He pressed hard, trying to stop his hands from shaking. The last secret he had kept was his decision to call for an Inquisitor. Stefan did not trust his own judgment now.
“You look good, Stefan.”
“Do not speak to me.”
“You are afraid. Do not mistake fear for wisdom. You’ll do something stupid.”
“I am not afraid,” Stefan said, digging his nails into his palms. He shook them out. “I trust God will avenge His name.”
“Perhaps He will. But how do you know He is not angry with you? How long have you shepherded these fine people? When was the last time you saw true salvation in any of them? You’ve strung them along—that’s what I think. You promised life and salvation and couldn’t deliver. That’s why you called me in. You’re no better than a man who cannot satisfy his own wife and sends her off to find a lover.”
Stefan lunged at him, grabbing him by the neck, slamming him into a wall. Bastion relaxed, going limp, a gentle expression on his face. Stefan dropped his hands and stepped back. Bastion reached out and tried to pat him, but Stefan pushed his hands away.
“We both knew you couldn’t do it,” Bastion said.
Stefan shook his head, staring at the floor.
“Look at me, Stefan.”
Stefan refused. Bastion stood closer, bending down to see Stefan’s face.
“Your war is not with me, brother. Your war is with yourself. I will finish the job you brought me here to do. I will gain confessions from these women, and I will burn them. Then I will leave. But you will still be here. You will still be their priest. I do not want that job. I am not fighting you for it.”
Bastion stepped back and straightened up, then breathed into his palm. He poured fresh water into his hand and slurped it, swishing it in his mouth before spitting it out into his bowl. “These people will need a good priest when I am finished. I hope you are that man.” Bastion walked out toward the crowd waiting for him to conduct his interviews.
Stefan had a Mass to do. No one would attend, of course. They would be with Bastion. He tugged at his tight collar. The air in the room was stifling.
He walked out of the dormitory but decided not to follow the path into the church. If Stefan could do nothing else, he could stand with his flock.
He turned at the gate and walked toward the hungry crowd. Bastion saw him coming and raised his voice to keep the crowd’s attention.
Bjorn caught up to him, pulling at Stefan’s arm.
“Let me go, Bjorn.”
“I know Mia came to see you. I want to talk to you.”
“No, not now.”
“Mia’s life depends on it.”
“Have you harmed her?” Stefan stopped, turning to face Bjorn.
“Do what Bastion wants. Help us destroy the witches in the village. For Mia’s sake.”
“If you love her, get her far away from here. Save her from this.”
“Save her? You do not understand. I am the one that needs to be saved.”
Stefan pushed him aside, taking each step up to Bastion.
Bjorn climbed the steps and took hold of Stefan’s arm. “Let Bastion finish this work. We can be free of all this.” Bjorn gestured to a clump of women huddled together behind Bastion. Some bled from the nose, others had hot red marks slashed across their arms. None looked up. They pushed together with moans like frightened sheep.