Page 93 of Mortdale

Chapter 17

Willow

Logan will not like this.

Liam had repeated that one sentence a total of six times since we left the mansion and I’d told the carriage driver to head for the Basilica instead of the town centre. I was tired of lounging around and waiting for Logan to find the right time for everything. Time was what I did not have. There was only a quarter of a faded shadow left on my shoulder. Too many dead Mortdale nobles and an unaccounted number of dead witches. Whatever had happened to the Mortdale witches had also happened to those born in Meridian—Cassandra included. She was the only reason why I had struggled to believe what Gerda told me at the Cleansing. Logan wouldn’t do it. Not to his sister. If the same thing that had happened to her had happened to the others, he wouldn’t keep it a secret. Right?

Right?

With Thomas tucked in my pocket, I strutted inside the holy grounds like I belonged there. Parasol in hand and top hat at a rakish angle, as Theodora had called it, I looked like a proper lady. Minus the stinky sewer rat in my pocket currently chewing on a cricket.

And minus the anxious guard trailing behind me like a lost puppy. “You’re not supposed to venture so far from the city. The Basilica and the town are not under Logan’s jurisdiction. This is the exarch's territory. And he’s been dying to get his fingers on Logan’s witch for a while now.”

“Does he have any reason to harm me?”

“Yes,” he hissed, looking around at the acolytes who’d stopped doing what they’d been doing to stare at us. “Everyone has a reason to harm you.”

“I’m a cleansed witch.”

“You’re Logan’s.”

“I didn’t know my husband had so many enemies.”

“He has very few friends.”

The exarch didn’t seem surprised at my sudden appearance. He was wearing his huge vestments, only today he had a deep green chasuble with a white stole around his neck instead of the pure vivid red ensemble from the Cleansing.

“Lady Duncan, what a pleasure,” he greeted. “You must have questions.”

Questions?

What was he on about?

He took my hands in his, and I tried not to shrink away from him. “All your kind does after the Cleansing.” A slimy shudder raked down my shoulder blades when his thumbs worked back and forth over my hands. “I will always be here to answer them.”

“Yes,” I said, pulling my hands from his and folding them behind my back. “I have so many of them. So, so many questions.” Running my eyes over the Basilica grounds, I asked, “There was this lovely gentleman the other day. I forgot to thank him for helping me find my way around.”

“Gentleman?”

“A Fredrick?”

His eyes pinched at the corners as he slipped on a polite smile. “No Fredrick in here. All acolytes carry their baptismal names in our old languages.”

“Ah,” I said, nodding and threading my elbow through his, pulling him on a walk to cover more of the Basilica grounds. He was obviously startled because I was practically dragging him around. “My husband read me some of the Chronicles last night, and I got curious. Is it true that Sankta Katerina is buried under the Basilica?” I brushed a hand playfully against his chest. “Or is it just for…theatrics?”

I’d aimed for pride or ego at best, but struck his balls by the twisted look on his face. “It is absolutely true. We do not invent stories about our Saints, Lady Duncan.”

I put my gloved hand on his arm, and that seemed to catch him by surprise—his anger softening. “Call me Willow.”

I heard Liam sigh and mumble between his teeth. “He’s going to cut the damn exarch’s arms off now.”

“I’m really sorry for insinuating, I just find it a little hard to imagine,” I said with a sigh. “A Saint,” I went on. “Buried so…poorly. One would think it would be under gold or in a palace.”

Where was I going with this?

Did I want him to bake me on a pyre for my witch mouth, or actually take me down there?

He nodded, much more patiently than I’d expected. Probably because his hand had moved to my lower back—which I’d only noticed because Liam made another comment about the exarch losing his legs to my husband. “Our Saints are humble.”