When Stars Die (The Stars Trilogy) (10 page)

“Maybe this isn’t meant to be,” I say, burying my face in Oliver’s soft shoulder, surrounding myself in his wintry scent that pushes out the medicinal smells of the infirmary. “You’re right, Oliver.”

He strokes my hair with his soft fingertips, threading one strand of hair at a time as he does. “I never said Cathedral Reims wasn’t meant to be for you, Amelia. It’s what you want. All I said is that perhaps you need a break. But that light in your eyes, that beautiful determination, it tells me you want this for yourself, and how can I deny you that? In spite of how much I may disagree with what goes on around here, I can’t tell you that what you want is wrong or stupid. That would be foolish of me.”

I look up, latching on to his gray eyes that reflect the wintry sky outside. “It’s what I want. But it’s me who wants this, not Nathaniel. I can’t send him home…alone.”

“And why can’t you?”

I look at Nathaniel, my cheeks burning with shame. “I have to protect him.”

“Amelia--”

Nathaniel moans, clipping off whatever Oliver wanted to tell me. His eyebrows tremble, his eyelids steadily lifting to reveal tired blue eyes. He looks from me to Oliver, then back to me again, confusion beginning to settle in his eyes. He sits up, keeping the blanket wrapped around him. “Amelia, what happened?” he asks, his voice soft.

I pull away from Oliver, my face heating up. The opposite sex isn’t allowed to hug at Cathedral Reims. Our interactions can only ever be formal, and Oliver has convinced the Professed Order that that is all our relationship is. It’s lucky he is a trusted member. Any other boy would not be able to get away with convincing the Professed Order of anything without some level of established trust. It is only younger children allowed to mingle—with supervision--as they are not of age yet.

“You don’t remember?” I ask, brushing bangs out of his weary eyes.

He shakes his head, his hand entwining with mine.

“You were looking at something before you fainted,” I say.

Nathaniel’s eyes widen. He lets go of my hand and pulls the blanket up to his neck.

I touch his back with the tips of my fingers. “What were you looking at?”

“I wasn’t looking at anything!”

“Nat, I’m not accusing you of anything. I just want to know.”

He shakes his head.

Oliver puts a firm hand on Nathaniel’s back, our fingertips touching. “Natty, you don’t have to be ashamed. Tell us what happened. What do you think made you faint? Were you feeling sick earlier today?”

Nathaniel keeps shaking his head, his eyes squeezed shut. An eight year old shouldn’t have to go through this. I am the most terrible older sister that has ever existed. What kind of sister am I to put my little brother in a situation like this?

I pull my hand away from Nathaniel. “It’s all right, Nat. You don’t have to tell us anything. But know that I love you and I am here for you, if you want to talk.”

Nathaniel looks down at the bed with half-lidded eyes. A spark of resentment appears, then dissipates as a small voice chirps from the entrance of the infirmary.

“Nathaniel!”

All three of us turn our heads to find Nurse Lila clasping the small hand of a girl with bright blonde hair and blue-gray eyes that stand out amongst her porcelain skin. She prances over to him.

Nathaniel blushes, pulling the sheet up to hide his burning cheeks. “Isis…”

Oliver smiles at me. “I think we should give these two some alone time. Sister Lila will supervise.”

I grin, knowing that Nathaniel is disguising an embarrassed smile beneath that sheet. “I suppose you’re right. I’m quite tired, in any case. It’s getting late.”

“I’ll escort you to your room,” Oliver says.

I kiss Nathaniel on the top of his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Nathaniel nods. Isis crawls on to the bed with him while Oliver and I exit the infirmary.

On our way to the rooms on the second floor, I admit to Oliver a watered-down version of why I think Nathaniel fainted. “I am selfish, Olly, for wanting Nat to stay when he doesn’t need to. I think the stress got to him, not the smoking, or anything else. Perhaps that’s why he fell into shock. Being out there with Ann and all, and those demon boys. Poor thing. It must have gotten to him.”

Oliver puts his hand on my back, the slight touch making me want more. The walls of Cathedral Reims are so repressive that they push in on me and quash any desires I have for him.

“Probably,” he says, looking around. At this time of day, Cathedral Reims is mostly empty due to everyone attending the last Liturgy of the Hour before bedtime. So it is just Oliver and I as we climb the winding stairs to the second floor. “I told you not to blame yourself, Amelia. You were doing what you thought was best. You're not perfect, and you shouldn’t try to be.” He stops us at the landing of the second floor, the wood groaning beneath our feet. It’s just the first floor with stone flooring. “Maybe we should go back downstairs, to the nave.”

Oliver makes a grab for my hand, but I pull it in the coat. “No, Oliver. We shouldn’t. They’ll be coming out soon, you know. They’ll cross the nave to get to the dormitories and their rooms.”

His face falls. “But that won’t be for a bit.”

My cheeks flush. “Oliver, we can’t.”

“I understand, but truly, why?”

“You know the rules, Olly. You know how things are supposed to be between us. It’s worse for nuns, especially. You’ll just be given a slap on the hand, but I’ll be exiled.” I close my eyes, soaking in the reality of the implications we toss between each other. “Nothing but this can ever exist between us, Oliver.”

His eyes fall to the scuffed floor. “Not even in secret?”

“Not even in secret. So whatever we feel about each other, we just have to ignore.”

He frowns. “Like we’ve been doing this whole time, Amelia? I just can’t do that, seeing you every day, with your hair, your eyes, your smile.” He turns away, his cheeks flushing a light purple, a peculiar color for a blush, but his blush, nonetheless.

“Would you rather be my friend, or not have me at all, because if you can’t control yourself, then it will have to be the latter.”

Oliver says nothing and starts down the tight corridor of shuttered classrooms and study areas. Not a soul breathes behind them--only the knowledge of Cathedral Reims exists behind those doors when no one occupies those rooms. From day one, those rooms contain everything anyone in the Professed Order ever needs to know and nothing else. We don’t need to know anything else, certainly not about feelings or being human.

We make it halfway down the corridor, when Oliver stops me again. “Since nothing can ever happen between us, can I at least kiss you?”

I raise my eyebrow, an intense heat blossoming in my stomach that threatens to seep under every edge of me. “What will kissing do? If you like it, you’re going to want more.”

“I just want to know what it’s like to kiss you, that’s all. And once I know, I don’t think I’ll want any more.”

I sigh, mulling over his request. I’m about to decide, when I hear a familiar pair of boots pound in the direction of the stairwell that leads to the first floor. None other than Theosodore Branch appears, bearing a jagged smile that makes me want to run to my room.

“There you are, Miss Amelia Gareth. I see Oliver Cromwell is in your company.” He raises an eyebrow in a suggestive manner. “I hope he is simply being a gentleman. After all, you know what will happen if there is anything more. But I digress. I merely came to fetch you. Mother Aurelia would like to have a word with you. Your little brother is already in her vestry, waiting patiently for you.” He then approaches me and brings his voice down to a barely audible whisper. “I would stay away from Oliver, if I were you. Period.”

#

Mother Aurelia throws a log in the fire, the flames blazing and crackling with sparks that land on marble tiles set into the parquet floor. She settles her enormous bulk in her chair, and turns to face Nathaniel and I who sit on small stools that make me feel feeble.

She clasps her hands in front of her. “With the recent events of the past few days, I have come to a reasonable conclusion of what needs to happen.”

I shrink away from the words, a metal coil wrapping itself around my heart.

“I will not be reconsidering sending the both of you home. You will leave tomorrow afternoon. Oliver will escort you to Norbury.”

No grand speeches. No warnings. Just the blunt truth. The metal coil pierces my heart. “How did you know I lived in Norbury?”

“Mr. Gareth,” she gestures at Nathaniel, “was kind enough to provide me with an address, and an explanation that the both of you have not seen your parents in three years, all the more reason to send you home. I’m certain they’re worried to high heaven about where you’ve been. I’m rather shocked they never knew you came here. Generally the decision to come here rests with the parents.” Then that should be all the more reason for me to stay, considering it was my decision alone. “Make no mistake, Miss Gareth. Mr. Cromwell will deliver you to Norbury, where I will then make certain he personally delivers you to your home. I will then expect a call from your parents to confirm that you have indeed arrived. Otherwise, Oliver will be demoted.”

My mouth hangs open knowing Oliver’s position in the Professed Order is being threatened. Part of me wants to scold Nathaniel for relaying information about our home, but I never told him to keep anything but what and who he is a secret. Another part of me wants to scream at Mother Aurelia for cementing this decision without giving me another chance to prove that she is wrong.

A clock above the door chimes. She looks up. “The Liturgy of the Hour has ended. I expect the both of you to start packing once you get to your respective rooms. I will write to you when I feel you are ready to come back to Cathedral Reims. Do not see this as a punishment, but a brief respite. The convent life is not easy.”

With nothing more to say, Mother Aurelia gestures us out of her vestry and heads toward the south transept, where her private bedchambers are snuggled in a deep recess. For a moment, I cannot move. She did not give us a time limit. She will only write to us when she feels she is ready for our return. That could be never, considering she knows my parents never approved of my coming here in the first place.

I ball my fists by my sides, tears glazing my eyes. I worked so hard to get to where I am, and all of that work could be thrown away because of my parents. My parents, who gave birth to two witches; my parents, who never considered that their hidden Seven Deadly Sin would affect their children; my parents, who probably never searched for us. Those are the parents Nathaniel and I will be going home to. It doesn’t matter what kind of life I lived before coming here. What matters is that the life I live now is going to come undone. What kind of hell will await Nathaniel and I? I’m certain that Seven Deadly Sin of theirs has reared its ugly head. Those sins always do.

Nathaniel grabs my hand and looks up at me with calm eyes. “I want to see Isis before we pack. She’s probably heading to her dormitory.”

The request is innocent enough, and I wish I could have some pleasant finality like that. But I never got a chance to tell Oliver I wouldn’t kiss him, no matter what. Unlike him, if he kissed me, I’d want more.

I let Nathaniel take me outside into the bitter cold where a black sky hangs above us, dotted with snowflake stars. I shove the tears in some hidden place inside me. I wish I could be a child, unfazed by what the world throws at her. People think children are so tender, but they’re resilient. It is we older ones who are tender, already beaten down by life.

Chapter Ten

It has been three years since I have seen the streets of Malva. I haven’t had anything to do with the west transept since entering the largest of the three portals on my first day. Cathedral Reims sits on the edge of the main road, at the end where it is a few miles from Parson Hill, whose snow-covered hill and naked tree are a blur through the light snowfall. The main road is crowded with horse-drawn carriages, street vendors, men and women in fine livery, and the scent of apples and cinnamon that wafts from the bakery across the street. The crowds hide the witch-hating propaganda etched into the buildings, on the stones of the road.

While the road is lively and filled with all manner of attraction, it only hides the poverty hidden in the backs of the city, crowded on tiny streets that sit on a grid. The alleys between buildings are so narrow people who come here think the back roads are residency areas for the wealthy who don’t want prying eyes. They think all the buildings are just like the ones on the main road, sculpted like little chapels in the Gothic style. They don’t know that the main road is all there is of Malva--the rest of the city is cheap clapboard and dirt roads. The rich live in places like Norbury or Belhame. Malva is just a port city with a pretty smile masking a festering heart.

Isis, Nathaniel, Oliver, and I all stand on the uppermost step of the west transept, the latter three of us waiting for a cab that will take us to the train station. Nathaniel and Isis are in their own world, one I wish to join. From the corner of my eye, I’ll occasionally find him glancing at her hand. We had to sneak her out during her study session. She won’t be gone long enough for anyone to notice. The nuns do not pay that much attention.