Chapter 8: Chapter 6

Lady Willoughby stayed at the manor until dinner, going over plans for the ball, and I wasn’t able to work again until late. After Celeste was put to bed, I went up to my study and worked until well past midnight.

I didn’t pause in my work until there was a timid knock on the door, and Mercy entered with a candle.

“Excuse me, Lady, but it’s getting quite late. Shall I turn your bed down?”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Mercy. I will likely stay up all night.”

“If you’ll pardon me, you really should get your rest.”

“I can sleep in a little tomorrow.”

Mercy nodded, but then she inched further into the room and shut the door, still clutching the candlestick.

“Will you need the candle, or oil for your lamp?”

“I have both candles and oil, thank you. Is something the matter?”

Mercy fussed with the candle some more, and then placed it on the table.

“Lady- it’s so very dark and late, that I thought you might like some company.”

I smiled a little – Mercy was obviously frightened, and needed the company more than I did. Then the smile faded. Hope had been reluctant to leave me alone lately, and he’d sent Mercy to guard me once before, the night of the full moon. Perhaps, I thought, he’d sent her to guard me again.

“Thank you, Mercy. I am tired. Let me wrap up my notes, and then we’ll retire.”

I blotted my notes, closed my books, and then turned out the lamp.

The hallways were drafty, and Mercy had to walk carefully, shielding the candle as she went. The light flickered and danced madly on the dark walls, casting weird shadows. As we neared the stairwell, I heard a scream that send chills down my spine.

“Oh Lady, please don’t stop. I can hardly stand it,” Mercy said.

“Shh,” I said. “The screams are coming from downstairs.”

“I thought I heard it come from down the hall,” Mercy argued. “It must be poor little Celeste. I will go to her once you’re settled.”

“No, it can’t be Celeste. Her room is in the opposite direction.” I went down the stairs a little ways “I’m certain- the sound is coming from downstairs.”

“Oh Lady- it isn’t a ghost, is it?”

“Of course it isn’t. Someone may need us- we must go to them. Take my hand, and you won’t be afraid.”

“You’re too good, my Lady,” Mercy said as she took my hand in her own thin, shaking one. “But really, we should go to bed.”

I ignored her objection, and made my way down the stairs and through another hall that ended in a bookcase.

“Lady- there’s no one here. We should go back,” Mercy said.

“I was sure it came from here.” I checked the two side doors, but they opened to a broom closet and a linen closet. I was about to turn back as Mercy had suggested when the scream rang out again- bright and clear. It seemed to come from behind the bookcase.

I let go of Mercy’s hand and examined the bookcase. The books were smooth and clean- their spines perfectly uncreased.

“Please Lady, I’m scared.”

“Don’t be frightened. I think the sound is coming from behind the bookcase.”

The bookcase looked sturdy, and I knew I would need to lessen the weight to move it. I reached out and began to remove books.

One of the books seemed to catch on something, and then there was a loud click. The bookcase swung open, revealing a hidden passage.

A loud chime sounded in the hallway.

“Lord Frey gave me clear orders; no one is to go into the basement. Not even you may pass, Lady Frey.”

I turned to face Mercy. Her frightened look was gone, replaced by fierce determination.

“Can’t you hear the screaming? Even now, it continues. Damn Lord Frey’s orders.”

Mercy put the candle on a nearby stand and pulled the cap from her head. Long, raven waves of hair tumbled down over her shoulders, contrasting handsomely with her sparkling blue eyes.

“You are a Lady,” she said, “so you have no idea what it feels like to be a servant. You have no idea what it’s like to be powerless under the disgusting men who call themselves your masters. Lord Frey is the only one who ever kept a respectful distance.”

“He may be the one who is screaming.”

“He may be, but his orders still stand. I will respect him as he has respected me.”

Mercy circled around and blocked my path, holding her hands in front of her with cat-like grace.

“He might not have foreseen-”

“He would have,” Mercy said. “He’s wiser than you know.”

The chime rang out again, louder than before.

I moved toward the door, but Mercy was faster than me. Her feet hardly seemed to shift as she closed the distance between us. Before I knew it, I was on the floor, and Mercy had me expertly pinned.

She applied pressure on my arm, and I felt a sharp pain.

“That’s enough, Mercy. You can let her up.”

“She’s determined, Lord Frey. I had no choice.”

“Yes- I can well imagine. Still, she’s found my sanctuary. The damage has already been done.”

Mercy let go of my arm, and I stood slowly, rubbing the sore spot.

“You have surprising talent, Mercy,” I said, not certain if I should feel frightened, angry, or simply impressed.

Mercy bowed in acknowledgement. “I owe my training as a maid to Miss Chastity, of course.”

“Leave us, Mercy. I would speak to my bride alone.”

“Yes, Lord Frey.”

I looked up at Hope as Mercy’s steps echoed in retreat down the hall. His shirt was rumpled, and his hair hung in limp ropes over his haggard face.

“You once accused me of being artful and scheming, Grace. I think it’s time we both do away with masks, and reveal our true faces.”

Hope stepped away from the doorway that the bookcase had revealed, and gestured with an outstretched arm. “After you.”

I shrank back.

“I’m not a brute, Grace, but if I must force you, I will. Better yet- I could call Mercy.”

I winced and rubbed at my sore shoulder. With some difficulty, I managed to force my steps toward the doorway, reasoning that it was better to walk into the unknown than be dragged.

The doorway opened into a narrow, winding staircase that ended in a tiny room with a single desk and a set of shelves filled with bottles and scrolls. On the far wall was a black curtain with a tasseled pull.

I could hear Hope closing the door at the top of the stairs, sealing us in. Then I heard his heavy footsteps as he came downstairs. He put his hands behind his back, and began to pace the perimeter of the room.

“Why did your father marry you to me?”

“I suppose- I suppose he thought it was a good match. He said that the Prince promoted it-”

“Don’t tell me what you suppose. Tell me what you know.”

“I only know that it was never helpful to question my father’s wishes. He never gave me his reasons for what he did; he only expected my obedience.”

Hope stopped pacing, and then spun to face me.

“And so when he ordered you to spy on me, you obeyed.”

“No- I didn’t. I haven’t sent him a single message.”

“Maybe not, but you said- I don’t remember the exact phrase you used- that he would understand if you didn’t reply. There’s a message in not writing to him,” Hope said through gritted teeth.

“The only message I meant to send was that I would no longer obey.”

Hope came closer and slammed his hand down beside me, trapping me between him and the wall.

“Stop lying to me,” he said. “You refused to cooperate with Captain Goode’s plan to send information to your father, and now you are snooping around my private sanctuary after I expressly forbade it. Would you still have me believe you are wholly innocent?”

“I-I swear to you that I only came here because I heard screaming. I wanted to make sure you were safe. As for the false reports- I didn’t wish to become involved in the intrigue between you and my father. Please-you must believe me.”

“Why should I believe you, when all I have is your word? What else do you have to offer me?”

“I have nothing.”

“I’m sorry, Grace, but with the lives of my family and friends at stake, I cannot accept your word alone.”

Hope dropped his hand and turned away from me. I felt despair settle in the pit of my stomach.

“Then what shall become of me?”

“I cannot let you out of the manor, Grace. I must monitor your every move, your every letter, and your every relationship. You will be a prisoner here, unless you can provide me with some guarantee that you will not betray me.”

A prisoner- the words cut me so sharply that I could not breathe. I had been imprisoned in my father’s house-isolated and alone- for my whole life. Now, after having a small taste of freedom, I would be as reliant on Hope as I had been on my father. If Hope decided he did not like the bent of my research, he could cut me off from books and supplies. Worst of all, if the danger I feared came, I wouldn’t have the ability to protect any of my friends.

I shut my eyes, and I heard an echo of the past- “The fates have left you with a unique opportunity; you must decide what to write in the book of your own future.”

I took a deep breath and decided to take my only chance, as dangerous as it was. “If I had told my father half of what I know, he would be here with the bishop already, tearing apart the manor for evidence to substantiate my accusations. At first, I didn’t think he would believe me, but after reading his letter, I think he would.

“Even so, I have remained silent. I cannot see you and your friends hanged, nor could I bear to make Celeste an orphan.”

Hope stepped forward, his red-rimmed eyes wide with panic. “What do you mean?”

“Before I tell you, let me assure you that the reason for my secrecy was to protect Celeste, as well as myself. I know that you do not trust me, and I wished to be able to watch over her without arousing your suspicion. I see now that this is impossible.”

“For Gods’ sake, Grace,” he said, grabbing both of my shoulders. “Tell me.”

“I remember everything,” I whispered, barely able to force the words from my mouth. “The night of the full moon, your attempt to mesmerize me failed. I was so frightened that I could not help but stay silent, and obey your commands. Even so, I remember everything. I saw your ritual. I heard you chanting to the demons.

“I know that you are a witch.”

Hope dropped my shoulders and turned away, seeming to crumple in on himself.

“I’ve already decided not to tell anyone- not unless there is greater danger if I remain silent. If you have any arts to bind me to secrecy-”

“No- you’ve resisted all of our magic. I don’t know what sort of power you have, but it’s stronger than all of us.”

“Me? But I have no power. I’m only flesh and blood…”

Hope looked up just as the idea took root in my mind.

“Would you be willing to take a blood oath?” Hope said, looking at me with challenge written clearly in his dark eyes.

“The oath would have to be carefully worded; I won’t take it lightly,” I said slowly. “If I were to take it, I would be honor-bound to die if I ever violated the oath.”

“Yes- if you betray the oath, you must die by your own hand, foregoing any chance of heaven. If you betray the oath and fail to take your own life, you suffer a fate worse than hell. Would I be able to trust your honor?”

I nodded. “I wouldn’t betray my word, in any case. If I do take the oath, however, then you must agree to certain conditions. May I trust your honor, as well?”

“I’ve seen hell, and you must trust me when I say I don’t intend to ever see anything worse.” Hope shuddered. “I’m in no hurry to die; you can trust my honor.”

“Then I am willing,” I said.

Hope took some parchment from the desk, and after scribbling for a while, said, “here- these are my terms.”

I looked over the parchment. “I will not tell anyone that you, or anyone in your household or coven, is a witch. I will not tell anyone of any blasphemous acts performed by you or your friends. I will not give any hints to my father, the Prince or court, the Bishop, the High Priest, or anyone else that would arouse their suspicion toward you or your coven, and I will not spread any rumors about blasphemous words or acts that would arouse general suspicion toward anyone in the coven.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“This seems well-worded, but I request that you add a line here stating that I may violate any of these terms if doing so will protect Celeste, or will prevent a greater number of deaths than I would inflict on my betrayal.”

“A greater number of innocent deaths,” Hope insisted.

“As you say- a greater number of innocent deaths,” I relented.

“What are your terms?”

“Only that I be free to go into society, and conduct my studies and scientific research however I please. Also, I ask that you be similarly bound to keep any of my secrets.”

“That is all?” Hope said dryly, raising one eyebrow.

“If it seems like too much, please remember that I’m risking everything, too,” I said. “It may be that, by entering into a contract with a witch, I am already forfeiting my soul.”

“And yet you haven’t asked for any protection for your own life,” Hope looked up and caught my gaze in his, “only for Celeste and other innocent lives. You’ve chosen your freedom over your soul.”

“It may be that I have,” I said. I looked steadily back into his eyes.

Hope regarded me with a crooked grin, and then broke our gaze, looking back at the parchment. After adding a few more lines, and arguing over a few more details of language, the agreement was complete.

Hope took a straight-edge and a compass from his desk, and carefully composed a strange sigil at the bottom of the page. It was a diamond, containing a circle, containing a 10 pointed star. Then he took a penknife from his pocket and sliced the flesh on his palm, letting drops of blood fall onto the symbol.

“By my blood and honor, I swear this shall be done.”

He then turned the knife’s mother of pearl handle toward me.

I hesitated, winced, and then steeled my will, sliding the blade swiftly over my palm. The knife was so sharp that I barely felt the sting, and my blood dripped onto the page, mingling with Hope’s.

“By my blood and honor,” I repeated. “I swear this shall be done.”

Hope moved the parchment aside, and then took a handkerchief from his pocket. He moved around the desk and took my hand in his, gently wiping away the blood.

“You cut too deep,” Hope said. “I’m afraid this will leave a scar on that lovely skin of yours.”

“It was my choice to make the cut,” I said. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I cut myself with sewing shears.”

Hope chuckled, his laugh rumbling deep and warm in his chest. It was a sound comforting enough to dispel the whole night’s tension.

“If you really mean to keep your vow, you must learn to lie better than this. I’ve never once seen you do needlework.”

“I can do needlework, you know- my governesses saw to that. I must admit that I don’t like it. Oh well- I can truthfully say this was done with a penknife, and let people assume I slipped while trimming a quill.”

“That’s more like it- you’re an apt pupil, indeed.” Hope wound the handkerchief around my hand, and I studied the mark on his own, fine skin. He had cut his hand better than I had mine- the blood was already drying in a fine line across his palm, and there were only a few spots of red on his lace cuffs.

#

I went to bed with the strange feeling that my vow had made an unalterable mark on the world, but the sun rose as usual the next morning. I dressed, ate breakfast, and heard Celeste’s lessons as though nothing had happened.

Celeste didn’t seem to notice any change in me. She only kissed my bandaged hand to “make it better,” and then opened her litany and began to read aloud. Soon, her high voice and the ticking of the clock lulled me into a feeling of- if not peace- at least normality.

“The clouds shall gather,” Celeste said the book’s ominous lines in a singsong voice. “The armies clash, the women shall weep, and teeth shall gnash. Not since the Ancients have hearts been so black-

“Lady Grace, what are the Ancients?”

“The Ancients are a race of people who lived before the Gods were born.”

“Before the Gods?” Celeste looked up, her eyes widening. “But how can that be? You said that the Gods created men.”

“The Ancients weren’t human. The Ancients were a race of brutes that sprung from earth in the dark days before the Gods. The Gods created humans to defeat the Ancients, and gave us the gift of souls in return.”

“Just so- and according to the tale, the Gods also created beauty as the humans’ reward,” a man’s voice spoke from the doorway.

“Mr. Filius,” Celeste said happily, and jumped up from her chair to meet him. “How did you get here?”

“I’m sorry to walk into a ladies’ sitting room, especially unannounced,” Mr Filius said

abashedly. “Your young maid just brought me here, and left without a word.”

“Please excuse her, Mr. Filius. I believe Mercy may be cross with me. Thank you for coming so quickly after I sent my note.”

Mr Filius bowed his head slightly. “The pleasure is all mine, mi’lady.”

“Mr. Filius, I’m wearing my glasses. See?” Celeste said, tugging his sleeve.

“I do see. I hope that they make your lessons easier.”

“Oh! they do. I like them much more than I thought I would.”

“Celeste,” I said. “Mr Filius is here to fix something for me. While I take him to my study, please finish the chapter we were reading.”

“Yes, Lady Grace. It was nice to see you again, Mr Filius,” Celeste said before returning to her chair.

#

Mr Filius went straight to my desk and, without ceremony, took the telescope and started to examine it. He held it up to the window, adjusted the dials, and then looked through it. After a few minutes of fiddling, gazing, and examining the instrument from every angle, he spoke.

“I was surprised to get your note. I spent a lot of time and care on your instrument, and my glasswork is some of the best in the business. Your descriptions of the phenomenon with Lystra intrigued me, though.”

“Could it be the fault of the instrument?” I asked, “or maybe a trick played by the eyes?”

“The collimation of the instrument looks good, and the glass is flawless,” he said. “You said that Lystra looks different every time you observe it?”

“Yes. Lord Frey has noticed the same thing.”

“Then I suppose we can rule out your eyes playing tricks on you,” he said. “I congratulate you on thinking to check the instrument. Many people would see a confusing sight and make up ridiculous explanations before even attempting to try mundane ones.”

I laughed. “Yes, I’ve seen it happen, before. One of my few amusements used to be playing secret tricks on my governess.”

Mr. Filius chuckled as well, and patted my hand in a fatherly way. “Well, I hope that you didn’t give the poor woman too much trouble.”

Mr. Filius finally turned to look at the room. “It’s good to be back here. This room has changed quite a bit since poor Miss Prudence left.”

“Prudence-” the name sparked a memory of Hope’s drunken cries, and I took a guess. “Do you mean Prudence Goode?”

He nodded solemnly. “I hope you aren’t offended that I speak openly about her, but she was a wonderful woman. I’m not the only one who misses her smile.”

“No- you aren’t. May I ask- do you know why she left?”

“No one knows why she left, but I do know why she was killed. She was accused of witchcraft- superstitious nonsense, if you ask me. She died of torture before they could hang her.”

“No,” was all I could manage, feeling sick to my stomach.

“Yes- they killed her and left that poor little girl motherless. Everyone thought that Prudence would marry Lord Frey. When she visited the hill country with her brother, she ruled over this house as though she were mistress already. She wasn’t high-born enough for the Prince, but often the Bishop will allow marriage anyway, when the woman is with child and shows repentance.”

“If that’s so, then why-”

“There’s no doubt in my mind that Lord Frey would have married her. I wish I knew why she left.”

Mr. Filius looked down at his boots, then, and fell silent.

“I’m sorry to bring up painful memories,” I said.

“Don’t be. It’s only natural that you were curious, and remembering Prudence Goode is never unpleasant for me.”

Mr. Frey reached into his pocket and took out a card. On the front of the card was a drawing of an eye.

“Here- take this and keep it in your purse. You never know when this sign will come in handy. Also,” he said with a grin, “when you solve the mystery of Lystra’s changes, come see me, and I will tell you a secret.”

Mr. Filius bowed low as I took the card, and then turned and left.

#

After Mr. Filius left, I studied the card for a moment, and then put it away in my purse. It was a puzzle, I knew, and given Mr. Filius’s intelligence and his intimate knowledge of Celeste’s mother, one that was imperative I solve.

Mr. Filius had given me a clue, however, which led me to believe he knew more about astronomy, and about Lystra’s behavior, than he was letting on. My first step to solving the puzzle he’d given me was to discover why Lystra behaved in such an odd manner.

Celeste had finished reading her chapter when I returned, and she stayed attentive during arithmetic, so as a reward, I allowed her to spend the last half of her music lesson dancing. While she was practicing the steps to the allemande, Hope entered the drawing room and fell into step with her.

“I’m so glad that I decided to come to you early,” Hope said after the dance was done. “I had come to ask if I could join you for tea, and then I heard Grace playing our song.”

Celeste curtseyed primly. “Thank you for the dance.”

Hope bowed low to her, and then turned to me with a significant look. “I hope that you will join us for our afternoon ride, as well.”

I closed the clavichord and put away my music, not trusting myself to answer right away. I felt the same way I’d felt on the day of our betrothal; I didn’t know how to speak to him, or what he expected of me. When I looked up at Hope, however, I saw an uncharacteristically sheepish smile on his face. His eyes flickered from me to Celeste and then back again, as though he were also unsure.

“Alright,” I said. “I accept.”

#

Thankfully, Celeste seemed more than happy to fill the awkward silences at tea, and afterward Hope was too busy supervising the stable master and procuring a mare for me to ride to say anything.

Once saddled and ready, our small party made our way down the winding path that led into the valley. After riding through the valley alongside the brook for a time, we looped around and headed back toward Bluebell Hill.

I reined in my horse a bit, and Hope turned back to me with a questioning glance.

“I thought we might ride up to the cottage,” Hope said. “Is that alright?”

“Yes, that’s alright.”

Hope smiled a little wider, and then turned his horse back toward the hill.

A breeze arose as we ascended the hill, rustling the bluebells whose scent was like cool dew on a fall morning. I closed my eyes and breathed it in, letting the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves lull me into a peace that supplemented my courage.

Near the crest of the hill, I heard the familiar sound of bells and the bleating of sheep.

“Verity!” Celeste called as she rode up the hill.

The shepherdess called back in her melodic voice, waving to Celeste with one hand while holding a little lamb in the other.

“The new lamb’s been born,” the shepherdess said to Celeste in a thick country brogue. “Wanna see?”

At that moment the shepherdess seemed to notice Hope and me riding behind, and her already ruddy face turned a brighter red. She dropped into a deep curtsey, struggling to keep a hold of the lamb at the same time.

“Eh! Mi’lady! Mi’lord! Pardon- I din’na know ye’d come.”

“No matter, Verity,” Hope said heartily. “We’re glad to see you’re well. Mind your lamb.”

“Thank ye, Mi’lord,” Verity said, taking the lamb with both hands as she curtseyed again.

Celeste looked back to Hope. “Oh! Uncle Hope, may I see the little lamb?”

“Yes- hitch your pony first. Lady Frey and I are going into the cottage, so be sure to stay nearby.”

“I will. Thank you,” Celeste called.

Hope and I hitched our horses to the tree near Celeste’s pony, and then Hope unlocked the cottage door.

“It’s up to you whether you come inside,” Hope said. “Today, I swear, there are no threats. You will not be harmed.”

I went inside.

Hope flung open the muslin curtains, and motes of dust danced madly in the afternoon sun. Outside, I could see Celeste and Verity seated on the ground, petting the lamb, who stood between them.

I sat on a wicker stool near the window, and Hope sat on a stool across from me. He fidgeted restlessly for a moment, and then stood and began to pace.

“I don’t know quite how to begin- with an apology, or with a compliment. I mean both of them sincerely, so you needn’t suspect me of my usual flattery.”

“Either will do. I was expecting neither,” I said.

Hope sat across from me again, though he still fidgeted with his riding gloves, placing them on the wicker table, smoothing them out, and picking them up again. In that moment, I understood in words what had been dawning on me for a time- that Hope’s artful manners did not conceal danger, but vulnerability.

“Well, perhaps the compliment would be best. You impressed me last night, Grace. I never thought that you would act so boldly. I had thought you were a cunning girl, but not brave. The fact that you value your freedom so highly- enough to sacrifice everything to gain- was humbling.”

“Thank you for the compliment, but I must confess that in the light of day, I wonder if the blood oath was an act of courage or foolishness.”

“Let me assure you that I don’t mean to put you in danger. I only wish to protect my family and my friends from the inquisition. I’ve been thinking about your situation since last night, and I see now that your father made you a pawn in his game.”

Hope paused and took a deep breath before he continued. “This brings me to my apology. I behaved abominably, last night. I should never have threatened or intimidated you. Even if my reasons were honorable, my methods were not. When you came to Rowan Heights, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t be a tyrannical husband. Last night, fear corrupted me.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Hope held up his hand.

“Please, let me continue. I know that you believe my witchcraft has corrupted me, but one of my reasons for bringing you here was to convince you otherwise. “

I couldn’t suppress an ironic smile. “You must understand why I would feel this way.”

“I understand, Grace. You’ve been raised in the faith. Once I tell you my story, though, you may feel differently.”

“I will listen,” I promised.

“I have reasons to hate the Gods and the church, and I have reasons for trying to protect my family from their influence. Last night, when you found me, I was more acutely aware of the Gods’ cruelty than usual, having had another nightmare about it.

“I try to stay awake most nights to avoid the nightmares. Captain Goode makes a potion that can keep me from sleeping.”

“I remember- he gave you a vial on my first day at Rowan Heights.”

Hope nodded. “The potion still isn’t perfect. I must sleep at least once a fortnight, or I become disoriented. One time, I tried to stay awake for a full month, and experienced hallucinations even more terrifying than the nightmares I was trying to escape.

“What is it that frightens you so?”

“Hell.”

Hope put his gloves away and began to wring his hands, looking down at them with the same expression I’d seen on the day I found him drunk.

Without thinking, I moved to sit beside him and took his hand.

“You’re helping me again,” Hope said. “I can’t imagine why.”

“There doesn’t need to be a reason. Tell me about your dreams.”

“Every time I fall asleep, it’s as though I descend into hell- over and over again. My skin, my flesh, even my bones feel as though they are on fire, and I can see my loved ones- everyone who has died- suffering the most horrible torment. Mother, Father, and even dear Prudence- everyone.

“Don’t pity me,” he said. “I didn’t know it would be this bad, but I did choose to accept the curse. It was the price I paid for my powers- we were all cursed upon our initiation into the coven.

“Many of the curses seem to be connected to the witch’s power, in an odd way. For example, Chastity has been gifted with tremendous physical strength, but she is also in constant pain.”

“If the price for your power was so high, then why did you join the coven?”

“I joined the coven so I could fight the church.” Hope pulled his hand away from mine, curling his fingers into a fist. “I was only 16 when I joined, but I knew I was making the right decision. The church has oppressed its people for generations, and my family has been sorely persecuted by them.”

“Persecuted? How so?”

“My family has been denied salvation by the church. We must still serve, of course- they even require that we send a son to become a monk once each generation. Even so, none of us can receive the sacraments, our prayers are not answered, and all of us are bound for hell.”

My blood seemed to turn to ice in my veins. The expression of hatred on Hope’s face was enough to convince me that his words were true, or-at least- that he believed them.

“And yet-” I said slowly, “the church requires that sons be produced in each generation to serve the monastery- requires that your line continue.”

“Hell must be populated,” Hope said with a dark chuckle. “My father was lucky enough to produce twin boys right away- one boy to continue the line as required, and one boy to join the monastery to which we are tied. I was stupid enough to have an illegitimate daughter, who is now needlessly condemned.”

I looked out the window at the happy child outside, who danced among the bluebells.

“Grace- it’s not just for my own family that I fight. I fight a cruel order that marries women against their will, and that gives men the right to beat their wives and children. I fight an order where the poor are forced to live in ignorance and squalor, and the rich are free to buy slaves from their number.

“The world’s order is not nearly as beautiful as the order of the heavens you admire. It’s dark, cruel, and corrupt.”

“I would be lying if I said I’d never had similar thoughts,” I said. “But what can we do against the power of the entire church, and against the Gods themselves?”

“That’s a rather bleak way to look at the world,” Hope said. “No wonder you seemed so unhappy when we met.”

“My only consolation,” I continued, “was to look at the heavens, and believe I might go there one day.”

“You’ve just discovered the church’s error. When they condemned my family, they gave us nothing to lose.”

“Why was your family condemned?”

“Centuries ago, during the War of the Ancients, my family refused to fight. My ancestors had friends among the Ancients, and would not condone the slaughter of the entire race.”

I looked down at my hands. I could see a thin line of blood, which had seeped through the bandage, and the memory of my oath almost made me smile in satisfaction. After all, how could I accept salvation, knowing that people existed who would never attain it?

“Grace? Please speak. I must know; would you still condemn me?”

“It’s not my place to condemn anyone. After all, I sold my own soul for freedom without a second thought. Your reasons for doing the same were far nobler.”

I could hear Celeste laughing outside. She and the shepherdess were running together through the bluebells with an unbridled joy that only childhood can bestow- the lamb gamboling behind them.

“The Goode family is similarly condemned,” Hope said, “and for the same reason. They were accused of cowardice during the War of the Ancients, and so one male of each generation must serve in the military.

“Our families have always been close, even though the Goode family was not so fortunate to keep their title and land when they were condemned. Still, even though a marriage between our families would have strengthened our cause, Prudence and I were selfish to think we could force the church’s hand. We were selfish to bring a child into the world.”

“If what you say is true, I honestly wish you are able to free Celeste of this condemnation.”

“I thought you might say so,” Hope said. He stood up and offered me his hand.

“If I’m right in believing that I’ve earned your trust, there is something I’d like to show you.”

I stood. “I trust that you’re being honest, and I feel sympathy for your situation- I really do- but the story itself is so fantastic that I must still have some doubt. I’m willing to see any evidence you can show me.”

Hope nodded and led me to the cellar door, turning lock after lock until the door finally swung open. Under the door there was a ladder that descended into a dark tunnel.

“There’s no need for a lantern- you’ll see once we’re inside.”

“How far does it go?”

“Not far- not even half a furlong. Celeste will be safe here, until we return. She often plays on the hill alone, or with Verity.”

“Should we allow her to play on this hill?”

“She’s safer here than anywhere else on my estate. There are invisible protections around this hill- from the valley to the forest on the far side- and they protect against malevolent forces that are magical or mundane.”

I knew that Hope would never willfully put Celeste in danger. The sooner I could see the evidence, I thought, the sooner I could verify his words.