Page 24 of Nightshade

“My point is that beneath the earth lies the roots, dirt and worms, where everything decays in order to feed the beauty you find so perfect. In order for something to live, something must rot.”

She considered that for a moment, her attention flitting between him and the tree. “Am I to assume you are the rot and Drystan is the tree? Seems the other way around, from where I am standing.”

“I am not asking you to assume anything. Only to consider a deeper understanding of the unseen. As I said, things are not always as they seem.” He pushed off from the carriage and strode up to her. “Good day, Lustina,” he said on passing.

* * *

The ride back to the monastery seemed far shorter than when they’d left earlier that morning. Bishop Venable didn’t say so much as a word the entire ride, even the few times she’d tried to engage him in conversation. Every inquiry was met with a stern expression and unyielding silence, and she feared she had gone too far that time.

When the carriage finally breached the stone walls of the monastery, Lustina’s stomach lurched. She followed Bishop Venable out of the carriage and into the infirmary building. Down the stone stairwell, he led the way with a single torch he’d grabbed from a bracket on the wall, and when they finally reached the bottommost level, the stirring in her stomach had bubbled into a cauldron of pure dread.

“Your Excellency, I meant no disrespect earlier.”

Not bothering to acknowledge her, he came to a stop before a room that had been used a number of times as a holding morgue for the dying. She’d once had to accompany one of the infirmary nuns who’d wheeled a body down the stairwell, a smooth brick slope with no actual stairs on the opposite side of the building. The unsettling experience had stuck with her ever since.

Bishop Venable opened the door to the cell inside, revealing nothing more than a cold and empty room. “You will sleep here tonight.”

Terror twisted in her gut. “What?”

“Perhaps this will teach you not to question me again.”

“Your Excellency, please. I will not do it again. You have my word. Please do not make me sleep down here in the dark alone.”

“In with you. Now.”

“Please. I’m begging Your Excellency!”

“In the room! Now!”

One hard shove from behind sent her flying into the room, and she fell to the stone floor, scraping her knees across its hard and gravely surface. She quickly pushed to her feet, but before she could reach the door, it slammed shut, closing her inside the small, pitch-black space.

In a panic, she slammed her palm against the cold surface and screamed. “Please! Let me out of here! Please!”

Only the sound of the lock clicking into place answered her cries.

“Please! Your Excellency! I cannot be left alone in the dark! Please!”

The sound of retreating footsteps skated down her spine, and Lustina spun around in the blackness, unable to see anything beyond her own nose. Her heart pounded against her chest, and she closed her eyes to the visions crawling into her imagination. Ones of evil creatures that clawed at her mind.

“Mama,” she whimpered, sliding against the door. “Please.”

Bad and awful things happened in the dark. She squeezed her eyes shut, banishing the visions from her head.

I am not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not afraid.

In the quiet that followed, she thought of Drystan. The poor boy who’d suffered the lashes. Surely, his wounds were worse than this. Surely, he suffered far more than she did. Lustina opened her eyes to the darkness, which was no different than when they were still closed. There, in the room, she saw Drystan clinging to a post, with the whip cracking against his pale, white flesh.

“If there is a God,” she whispered in the darkness, “show mercy on him.” The concern for the boy distracted her from the fears still scratching for her attention.

Hours must have passed, her skin chilled with the cold, and when the door finally opened, Lustina could hardly see past the blinding light.

She stood to find Bishop Venable staring in on her.

“Have you learned anything from this, girl?”

“Yes, Your Excellency” she said, tipping her chin up. “I learned that I no longer fear the dark.”

His jaw shifted, eyes burning with what she surmised as disappointment. “You have an evil inside of you. Just like your mother. And mark my words, I will exorcise it from you, or you will meet the same fate.”