“What happened to Olive?” Corban prompted when I had been quiet too long.
I didn’t want to say the words, didn’t want to remember the scene, didn’t want in my mind, again, those images of horror. So I spoke as quickly as I could. “He brought her to his room one night against her will. She struggled, he reacted, and by the time I found them, she was no longer breathing.” I took a deep breath, because I had somehow run out of air. “By the time I left them, he was bleeding so much that I thought he would surely die.”
For a moment, the silence between us was absolute. Well, there’s the worst of it, I thought. There’s the truth that defines me. Try to hurt me and I will hurt you back. No matter who you are, no matter how much it costs. And I’m always on guard, waiting for the next blow to fall.
I waited in some defiance for Corban’s expressions of disgust and outrage. I realized—much to my fury—that my attitude was tinged with regret. Now he will order you from the room. Now he will never wish to see you again. Who cared? He was an angel, self-absorbed and self-righteous and allying himself with power, like all the rest of them. My story would shock him, I was certain, but not because a Manadavvi lord had committed murder in the name of lust. He would be shocked because a servant girl had thought she had the right to fight back.
I couldn’t even look at him as I waited for him to denounce me.
His voice, when it came, was threaded with amazement. “That was you?” he demanded. “You’re the one who cut up Reuel Harth?”
I risked a quick look at him and saw nothing but astonishment on his face. “You know him?”
“Knew him. Everyone did. You’ll be happy to know he’s dead now.”
I took a quick breath. “Did he suffer?”
Corban’s mouth opened in a soundless laugh. “Not as much as you’d like, I imagine, but his last three years were unpleasant enough. His face was heavily scarred, you know, from whatever weapon you used. And his reputation was wholly shredded. He was ostracized by Manadavvi and angels alike.”
“Because he raped a servant girl?” I said scornfully.
“Because he killed her,” Corban corrected me. “I see you have the lowest possible opinion of Samarian justice, but the Archangel has reasonable ethical standards, and she had never liked Reuel to begin with. She was happy to levy a steep fine and censure him in public—she would have liked to do more, but Reuel wouldn’t confess to the crime and there was no absolute proof that he’d strangled that poor girl. The servants were mostly afraid to give testimony and his wife wouldn’t speak at the trial at all.”
“I could have told them—” I began in a hot voice, and then abruptly fell silent.
“Exactly. But the woman who had come to her friend’s aid so dramatically—and who had been brought to the Eyrie specifically to speak accusations against Reuel Harth—somehow disappeared before the trial began.”
I crossed my arms and glared at him, but I felt a gaping hole open in my stomach. The Manadavvi lord escaped some measure of punishment because I had run away? Had I been the one to betray Olive after all?
He answered my unspoken wail of remorse. “It wouldn’t have made much difference, I expect. The fine might have been heavier—the condemnation more sharply worded. But the end result would have been much the same.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I always wondered, though,” he said. “How did you get out of the Eyrie? There’s the new road that lets people go up and down the mountain, but it was still under construction when the trial was going on. I assume you weren’t kept under lock and key—but back then, the only way to get off the Eyrie was in an angel’s arms. How did you manage to disappear?”
“I went exploring,” I said shortly. I was so shaken by the various revelations of the evening that I was having trouble finishing the conversation in a normal tone of voice. “And one day I found this—I can’t explain it—this open shaft in the back of the hold. With a contraption that moved up and down from the top of the mountain to the base. I figured out how to use the ropes and pulleys to ride the thing down to the ground.”
“Rachel’s escape route!” Corban exclaimed. “Of course! She was Gabriel’s angelica, you know, and she was afraid of heights, so she didn’t like to be flown down from the Eyrie. I’d forgotten that cageand-pulley system even existed.”
“Well, I found it,” I said. “And then I hid myself in Velora until everyone stopped looking for me.”
I could tell by Corban’s expression that he was doing a rough calculation. “But that was—what, three years ago?”
“Four.”
“And all this time you’ve been running? Thinking the angels—or the Manadavvi—were still looking for you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And that’s why you’re here. At the Gabriel School. Which, as far as I can tell, is at the very edge of civilized existence. You’re still running.”
“I suppose.” I was suddenly so tired I could barely muster the strength to answer.
But Corban was energized. He leaned forward, his face alight. I had the sense he might take my arm again, so I scooted back, out of reach. “Well, you don’t have to hide anymore,” he said. “Reuel’s dead and the angels aren’t hunting for you. You can go where you want. Do what you want. Lead a normal life again.”
Laughing faintly, I pushed myself to my feet. I figured I’d better leave while I still had the strength to walk home. “I don’t know that I ever led a normal life,” I said. “And I’m perfectly happy at the Gabriel School. All I need these days is a place to rest.”
He stood up so quickly he almost knocked his chair over. “Wait. I want to ask you—”
I had headed for the door, but now I pivoted back to face him. “We’re done talking about my life,” I said sharply. “I’ll come back tomorrow, and every day after that, but not if you keep asking me questions. Do you understand? I’ll help you as long as you need me, but if you don’t respect my wishes, I won’t work with you anymore. And if you try to make me come to you anyway, I’ll leave the school. I’m not afraid to run away. I’m not afraid to start over. I’m not afraid of anything.”
I could almost see the words forming on his lips, something like You’re afraid of things in your past that give you pain. But he didn’t say them. His need for my assistance was greater than his desire to pry into my life. “I won’t ask any questions,” he said quietly.
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
If I had had the strength, I would have run from the room.
CHAPTER 5
I had to force myself to go back to the Great House the following day. I had tossed and turned all night, torn between hating myself for revealing so much to Corban and experiencing a fierce jubilation at the knowledge that Reuel Harth was dead. I was also haunted by images of Olive’s torn and twisted body, images of Reuel Harth’s blood seeping into the bedclothes, and other memories that I usually managed to stuff to the very back of my mind.
I closed my eyes against the pictures in my head, turned over on my mattress, and punched my pillow into shape. I vowed never to tell that story again. I was grateful that, when sleep finally arrived, it came unencumbered with dreams.
I yawned through most of the day, but a growing sense of trepidation made me grow more alert as the sun went down. Even if Corban kept his promise, my confession would lie between us like a sucking swamp. One misstep, one incautious word, and either of us could be pulled back in. Our conversations would be awkward, fraught with knowledge, laced with tension.
I shook my head and forced myself to stand straighter. Not that our conversations have been easy so far, I reminded myself. He was an angel and I was a servant girl with a violent past. You’re lucky you’ve been able to manage to exchange any words at all.
My mouth quirked in a bitter smile. I was certainly right about that.
By nightfall, I was headed back up the hill, bringing a freshbaked loaf of bread from the school kitchen to spare Alma that task, at least. She was up and hobbling around the kitchen, looking as cheerful as I’d seen her.
“I’m feeling much better,” she assured me. “I even made it upstairs once, though my ankle hurt for the rest of the day.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s very encouraging! Soon you won’t need me here at all!”
She cast me a quick sideways glance while pretending to keep all her attention on the soup she was measuring into two large bowls. “I won’t, but the angel might,” she said. “He was very pleased to see me when I made it to the top of the steps—until he realized I was me and not you. Then he managed to be polite, but I could tell he was disappointed.”
It was clear she thought there was more to our relationship than there was. “I’m no angel-seeker,” I said bluntly. “I’m not trying to seduce him.”
