Page 95 of Blood and Moonlight

CHAPTER 38

I don’t know whether Remi gets any sleep that night, but I don’t. At first I thought I’d be able to cry myself into at least a restless doze. Failing that, I stare at the ceiling, seeing the faces of Simon and Magister Thomas in the shadows over my bed. One is cold and accusing, the other calm and accepting of his fate. But when I close my eyes all I can envision are Marguerite’s and Mother Agnes’s terror.

Scattered on the floor of my room are four small stones—ones that Simon must have thrown in the window trying to get my attention last night after I was gone. Now they’re the only evidence I have that Simon cared for me. As the sky outside fades from black to violet to gray, Mistress la Fontaine rises from her creaking bed and ambles downstairs to start breakfast. Remi stirs above me, preparing for what will have to be a full day of work at the Sanctum.

In the magister’s absence, he’s in charge.

No doubt he’ll spend the day reveling in the role he’s always coveted, everyone answering to him, needing his approval. Rather than go straight downstairs, Remi stops outside my room.

“Cat,” he says in a raspy voice, pushing the door open several inches. “I’ll need your help today.”

I roll over and turn my back on him. “I’m sure you’ll do fine on your own.”

He exhales in exasperation. “I didn’t want this to happen. You know that.”

Throwing the covers aside, I swing around to sit up facing him. “Then why did you betray the magister?”

“Me?” Remi yells. “You want to blame this onme?”

“What you told the venatre got him arrested, so yes, I blame you.”

He opens the door wider but still won’t set foot in my room. Doing so was the one thing Magister Thomas would have sent him packing for, no questions or excuses. “Of course,” he says sourly. “It couldn’t be your fault for not telling the venatre the truth in the first place. Nor could it be the magister’s, who refuses to explain where he was last night.”

I know he must have been in the Selenae Quarter. Why wouldn’t he just say so? And why did Gregor—the man Magister Thomas considers a friend—only watch as he was marched away like a criminal?

Remi lowers his voice to almost a whisper. “Have you ever considered it might be him?”

“No. Never.” If Remi knew the details of what was done to Perrete and the others, he would side with me. “Simon thinks the killer has a troubled and violent past, that he wants revenge on a woman other than the ones he’s slaughtering because it’s someone he can’t get to. Doesthatsound like Magister Thomas?”

“Actually it does, Cat.”

I blink at him. “He’s hardly ever raised his voice to either of us, not even yesterday or with you goading him the way you have in the past two weeks.”

Remi slouches against the doorframe and looks me over, eyes softening a little. “Do you want to go down to the kitchen and discuss this over breakfast?”

I cross my arms. “I’m not feeling well.”

He sighs. “I won’t make you work today, but a cup of tea might make you feel better.”

“You can explain what you’re talking about from right there.”

“Fine.” Remi runs a hand through his tangled black hair, making it stand on end. “Did you ever wonder why he left Brinsulli? Why he never returns to visit his family?”

Though I’ve traveled across Gallia and Doitchlend with the architect as he consulted with other masters during winter months, the island nation across the channel is a mystery to me. All I know of it and his hometown of Iscano comes from a map of Mother Agnes’s. “He was hired here,” I answer feebly. “He fell in love with his work.”

Remi snorts. “How right you are.” He raises his eyes to the ceiling. “Magister Thomas fled Brinsulli before he could be arrested for beating his own master half to death. It seems they had a disagreement on the construction of the Grand Sanctum in Londunium.” He looks back down at me, brows arched. “Sound familiar?”

“Not really, considering he hasn’t thrashed you when you’ve deserved it.”

Has Remi beentryingto get the architect to lose his temper?

He ignores my jab. “Did you know he was married?”

My mouth drops open. I’d always thought of the magister as wed to the Sanctum.

“You were too young to remember, and trapped in that convent,” says Remi. “I can barely recall it. But she came with him from Brinsulli, and one day she disappeared.”

I stare at him. “Are you saying she died?”