CHAPTER 36
I’m screaming for someone to help Marguerite, and Remi appears at my side. I don’t question why he’s there, just beg him to find a physician. When he returns shortly, a middle-aged woman in plain black clothes gently nudges me aside and begins examining my friend. As she bends over, a silver chain slips out of her shirt and dangles an iridescent, polished stone from her throat.
As soon as I’m not touching Marga, I lose our connection, but her last response to my imploring her to stay awake echoes in my mind.I’m trying, Cat. I’m trying.
I know she can still hear me, though. “Marga, someone’s here to help you,” I call as Remi pulls me farther out of the woman’s way. “And I’m right here, too. Just stay awake, please.”
The physician looks up at me, her kohl-lined eyes narrowed. Threads of gray follow the curls in her dark hair from her temples to where it’s bound at the nape of her neck. “Were you talking to her?” she asks sharply. “Did she respond at all?”
“Catrin!” The architect swoops down next to me, robes flying. “What are you doing here? What happened?” He searches for the source of the blood that’s all over my hand.
“None of it’s mine,” I tell him. He starts to wipe it off with his sleeve, but I make a fist, unwilling to let go of Marguerite’s voice.I’m trying, Cat.
Magister Thomas stops dabbing at me and looks around, taking in the Selenae woman tending Marguerite and the wailing Sisters of Light. The sitting room is now lit by candles and lanterns, making the shape on the floor visible. “Is that—?”
“Mother Agnes,” I affirm, my voice cracking.
Remi squats down in front of me. “Cat, where did the venatre go?”
“Simon?” I haven’t seen him since he left to raise the alarm. “He went to the chapel to ring the bell.”
Remi stands. “I’m going to find him. Stay here. Both of you.”
As if I would leave Marguerite. The architect pulls me against his shoulder as we watch the physician. She keeps one hand on Marguerite’s neck while gently probing the wound on the side of her head with the other, murmuring.
“Yes, she’s still here.” The woman speaks to Marguerite as though she’s conscious. “Can you remember anything?” She pauses. “That’s all right.”
“Can you hear her, too?” I blurt out.
The physician glances up at me. “Could you?” Her silver gaze moves to Magister Thomas. “You never told us that.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies.
Frowning, the woman goes back to Marguerite. “I don’t know, my dear, but I’ll do my best.” Then she sighs. “The old woman? She is Beyond the Sun. I’m sorry.”
Marguerite was asking about Mother Agnes. The physician looks up again. “I need to move her to a place where I can better care for her.”
Several sisters move forward. “We’ll take her to the sickroom.”
“No,” says the woman. “She’ll need constant watch and likely surgical draining to relieve pressure on her brain. I can do much more for her in the Quarter.”
The sisters gasp in unison. “That’s impossible,” one hisses. “We cannot allow it.”
“Then she will almost certainly die.”
“So be it,” declares Sister Berta. I remember her from years ago, and I disliked her then. “If it is the Will of the Sun.”
I jump to my feet. “Don’t you dare forbid it!” I shout at her. “Mother Agnes would have allowed it!”
Berta crosses her arms. “We cannot afford the price they will demand.”
“Then I will pay it,” says Magister Thomas, rising to stand beside me.
While Berta protests weakly, several more Selenae arrive, carrying a rigid cot. The physician instructs them how to lift Marguerite, keeping contact with the bloody side of her head throughout, even as they walk away, though she pauses to address me. “She wants you to know it will be all right, and she loves you.” The woman’s eyes shift to the architect. “And we will have a great deal to discuss later, Sun-lover.”
“What is she talking about?” I ask Magister Thomas as soon as they’re gone.
In response, he hugs me. “Oh, Cat, I don’t know where to begin, and I don’t understand half of it.”