CHAPTER 56
Even in his martyrish mood, Simon dislikes the idea of my going home. I’m not willing to stay, however, as it could put the abbey in danger if the killer thinks I’m there.
Dawn is still two hours off when I let myself in the kitchen using the key that now shares a pocket with my voidstone and a fresher moonstone from Athene. As I turn the bolt back into the lock, Remi appears in the doorway to the workroom. His dark, wiry hair is stretched and pressed away from his face, as if he’s been pulling on it with his hands. For several seconds he stares at me, like he’s not sure I’m real. Then, without a word, he crosses the kitchen and takes me in his arms. I’m as surprised by his embrace as I am about how much I need it.
“I’m sorry,” he says into my hair. There are no tears, but the swelling around his eyes tells me he’s been crying. “I was upset. I said things I didn’t mean, Cat. I’m so sorry.”
My arms go around him, my big, stupid almost-brother who despite everything will always meansafeandhome. “You had every right to think it was my fault,” I murmur into his chest.
Remi leans back and puts calloused hands on either side ofmy face, tilting it up to look me in the eyes. His own are made bright green by the bloodshot whites. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he says. “Iwon’ttell anyone. Ever. No one has to know, not even Magister Thomas.”
Even thinking I’m guilty, he wants to protect me. “But I wasn’t to blame, Remi,” I say. “Some of the beams were cut or the nails loosened.”
“Why would anyone do that?” He frowns and lowers his hands to my shoulders. “And how do you know?”
Simon had always kept the killer’s signature and other details a secret, but there should have been other ways to tell. “Did you find anything odd? Cut beams or severed joints?”
Remi blinks. “I didn’t consider looking.”
“Perhaps we can find some evidence today.”
He shakes his head. “It’s all been cleared and burned. You know the altum would never allow something cursed to remain in the Sanctum.”
I remember that happening when the scaffolds collapsed years ago. It was a huge loss of materials that could have been reused, but the magister knew no one would ever trust them again. Still, that was fast. “Already?” I ask. “In one day?”
“Half the city turned out to help.” Remi releases my shoulders and takes my hands, rubbing rough thumbs over the back of them. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ll never let anyone think you were at fault. Just… promise me you won’t run off and join the Sisters of Light.”
“Is that—” I stop and choose my words carefully. “You knew where I went?”
“Mum said you’d sent word you were going to the convent for a few days.” He turns my palms over and looks at them. “She almost acted like you wouldn’t be coming back.”
I wonder if Gregor had hinted that last part, hoping I would stay in the Quarter permanently this time. “I just needed to think.”
Remi’s eyes widen as he notices the red-brown stains on my sleeves and tunic. “Is thatyourblood?”
I’m about to explain that I cut myself on glass—though not the circumstances—when I remember that my hand is healed. “I got it on me the day of the collapse. During the rescue.”
“I don’t recall seeing that much on you.” Remi frowns at the white scar from the wound that was the source of most of the blood, like he knows it shouldn’t be there.
All I can do is shrug. “I’ve bathed, but I need to change.”
“Yes, yes. Of course.” Remi moves to the front of the house, releasing only one of my hands and pulling me along. “Have you slept?” he asks. “I mean, will you want to rest today?”
“Maybe for a few hours.” His kindness and concern are unusual, but I suppose he really was afraid I would never come home. “Have you had word of the magister?” I ask as we reach the stairs. “Is he well?”
Remi continues holding my hand as he leads the way up. “I bribed one of the guards yesterday for an update. Magister Thomas was in good health but saying very little when questioned.”
We stop outside my room. Even now, Remi won’t cross the doorframe. “Do you still believe he could be the murderer?” I sound more accusing than I mean to.
He looks down at our joined hands, mumbling, “I don’t know, Cat. He won’t say where he was that night, and I don’t understand why, but…”
“But what, Remi?”
He bites his lip. “Mother Agnes’s murder was to hurtyou. And if you’re right that somehow the collapse was by design, that was your part of the Sanctum. I can’t imagine the magisterever hurting either of you.” Remi sniffs. “He cared more for you both than he did for me, that’s certain.”
“That’s not true,” I tell him. “Magister Thomas knew one day he would have to hand the Sanctum over to someone, butyouwere his choice for that. He just had to make you as worthy as he could.”
Remi raises his eyes to mine. “He said that about you, you know. Before he was arrested. ‘You don’t deserve her. Not yet.’ Those were his words.”