‘Sweet Sister,’
the abbess crooned. ‘What could the cloister offer at this late hour?’
Marlene cringed as her Superior
smiled expectantly. ‘Trouble sleeping, Mother. I find the night breeze helps,’
she said serenely.
‘Certainly it would help, if there
was such a breeze. Now go back to bed Marlene.’
Her
eyes followed the girl as she disappeared into the corridor from where I
watched. I ran to our room and was in bed by the time Marlene entered. She looked
at me, clearly startled. ‘What are you doing awake?’
‘Where
have you been?’ I asked, ignoring her question.
She
shuffled uncomfortably and got into bed, mumbling something about a breeze.
Marlene
did not attempt to leave the room at night again in a long time. I stayed up
most nights until I was sure she was asleep. The next day I would find her
still in bed or readying herself for the morning prayer. Until, one week, the
Mother Superior went down with a cold. I remember she called me to ask that I
keep an eye on the wayward child, keep her from wandering. I said I would.
That
same night, Marlene did it again. In the small hours of the morning, she
slipped from her bed and padded outside. Instead of calling her back, I waited
for the door to close behind her and followed.
I
caught up when she was crossing the cloister toward the entrance of the
convent. I must say I was quite alarmed to see her leaving. Only the abbess had
keys to the heavy oaken door, and those where permanently on her person.
I
stalked Marlene for a long while, clutching at my robes in the night chill. She
stopped at the edge of the fields, where a figure stood waiting. “Young love” I
thought at once, a little disappointed. It wasn’t surprising really; since she
was a novice the girl hadn’t shown much zeal in her devotion.
I
approached in silence to get a better look. The man wore a cowl and greeted
Marlene in a deep voice. That wasn’t right. He seemed to be at least twice her
age, and a monk himself. Not that that was unheard of either, but still… I
waited.
The
pair stood in silence for another long period, apparently waiting for something
to happen. Then it did. From the bordering woods, a woman stepped out, long
hair whipping about her face. She also looked much older than Marlene, but her
clothing betrayed no connection to the faith. When she joined them, the man
lowered his hood and began to speak. I strained to hear, but couldn’t make out
much. The two women just listened, as if he was lecturing them.
Upon
finishing the sermon, Marlene removed her wimple and took both hands to her
temples. The others stood, watching, waiting. The nun’s hair burst into flames
and a ring of tall fire leapt out of the grass, surrounding them. I screamed,
unable to help myself, and ran towards the circle, not understanding. Through
the flames I saw that Marlene was unhurt, her hair its usual pearly blond. Together
with the man and woman she was trying to stamp out the flames licking at their
ankles. She must have seen me too, because she shouted something at her
companions above the roaring flare and they turned to look at me.
The
monk clasped his hands above him, then his eyes went blank and silence fell
upon the field like a blanket. The temperature dropped dramatically and the
blaze died out as quickly as it had begun. I ran.
