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However, at the end of the chanting session, Becca, who’d been leading the meditation from the raised pentagonal stage that hid the baptismal pool, descended before Robin had any chance of implementing this risky plan and walked directly up to her, while everyone else filed out of the temple for the dining hall.
‘Have you had an accident, Rowena?’
‘Yes,’ said Robin. It hurt to talk; the pain from her jaw radiated up into her temple. ‘I slipped and fell.’
‘Where did that happen?’
‘In the Retreat Room.’
‘Who were you in the Retreat Room with?’ demanded Becca.
‘Will Edensor,’ said Robin.
‘Did Will suggest spirit bonding, or did you?’
‘I did,’ said Robin, because she knew laundry workers had witnessed her approaching Will.
‘I see,’ said Becca. Before she could ask anything else, a figure appeared silhouetted in the temple doorway and Robin, her heart rate now tripling, saw Jonathan Wace in his silk pyjamas. The subtle spotlights in the temple ceiling illuminated him as he walked towards them, smiling.
‘I thank you for your service, Becca,’ he said, pressing his hands together and bowing.
‘And I for yours,’ said Becca, now wearing a transported smile as she, too, bowed.
‘Good evening, Artemis the chaste… but what’s happened here?’ said Wace, placing a finger underneath Robin’s chin and tilting it to the light. ‘Have you had an accident?’
With no more idea whether he was playing a game with her than she’d had in the farmhouse, Robin said through clenched teeth,
‘Yes. I slipped over.’
‘In the Retreat Room,’ said Becca, whose smile had vanished at the words ‘Artemis the chaste’.
‘Really?’ said Wace, running his finger lightly over the bruised swelling. ‘Well, this represents a turning point, doesn’t it, Artemis? And who did you choose to bond with?’
‘Will Edensor,’ said Becca, before Robin could answer.
‘Goodness,’ said Wace quietly. ‘That’s an interesting choice, after what I told you about him during our last encounter.’
Robin wasn’t sure she could have spoken, even if she’d wanted to. Her mouth had become very dry again, and Wace was still tilting her face backwards, which was causing her pain.
‘Well, run along to dinner,’ said Wace, releasing her after another searching look. ‘I’ve got things to discuss with Becca.’
Robin forced herself to say, ‘Thank you.’
‘Thank you, Papa J,’ said Becca.
‘Thank you, Papa J,’ mumbled Robin.
She walked away as fast as she could. On reaching the temple steps she saw two of her usual escorts waiting for her, so was forced to walk with them to the dining hall.
Tonight, she told herself, you go tonight.
That, of course, was assuming she wasn’t about to be summoned back to the farmhouse to account for herself. Every second, as she ate her noodles, Robin expected a tap on the shoulder, but none came. Her now swollen and bruised face was attracting a few glances, but nobody asked what had happened to her, which was a relief, because talking hurt and she preferred to be left in peace.
When dinner ended, Robin walked with the rest of the women towards the dormitory. As they entered the courtyard, some of those ahead of her uttered exclamations of surprise.
Sixteen teenaged girls, all dressed in long white robes and holding flaming torches, were ascending the temple steps in the twilight. As the onlookers paused to watch, the girls positioned themselves in pairs on the eight stone steps leading to the temple doors, turned to face the courtyard, then stood in silence, their faces illuminated by the fire. Each girl’s eyes had been painted with dark shadow to mimic running make-up, which gave them a very eerie appearance.
‘Countdown to the Manifestation,’ Robin heard a woman behind her say.
