“You shouldn’t touch wild animals, Miss Coggins.”
“I know,” Irene stared down at her feet. She felt heat in her cheeks. “I was scared, it was right in front of me. I don’t think I was thinking clearly.”
“Understandable.” The dean nodded. “Can both of you make it down to Nurse Post’s office? Mr. Anderson is covered in blood that isn’t his own and Miss Coggins, you’ve touched a possibly disease ridden animal. It wouldn’t hurt to get yourselves checked out.”
Jordan said, “of course, Ms. Turner.”
Irene just nodded her head.
A slick yet slightly sticky hand gripped Irene’s own. She tried to pull out of Jordan’s grip, but he held tight. Soon enough he was dragging a barely resisting Irene down the halls.
“It felt weird,” Irene said aloud. She glanced down at the fingertips that weren’t encased in Jordan’s bloody hands.
Trying to remember what it felt like taxed Irene’s mind. It was coarse; not quite what she expected in that regard. The real mind numbing part of touching the beast was how the hard hairs wriggled beneath her fingers. Like they were alive, feeling her just as much as she felt it.
Then she remembered its breath. Irene stumbled as a small involuntary shudder came over her.
Jordan stooped over and caught her before she could fall down completely. Maybe the shudder had been larger than she thought.
“Alright, up you go.” He lifted her arm over his shoulder and supported half her weight.
“I think can walk on my own, thank you,” Irene said.
“And I think you’re in shock. It isn’t everyday you see someone killed.”
Irene stumbled again as he said that. She hadn’t even been thinking about the nun. That poor nun, even if it was her fault.
“Come on Irene. We’re almost there and then you can lie down for a while.”
Irene nodded. “Lying down might be nice.”
— — —
Consciousness took hold of Nel. It crept up with bits and pieces of the room fading into her perception one thing at a time. Like the trickle of a coffee pot.
Nel suppressed shaking her head. So many years passed since she last had coffee that she couldn’t even remember the taste. Or drinking it. Had she ever tried coffee? It was a weird analogy to think of in either case.
Keeping her eyes closed, Nel slowly drew in a breath of air.
None of the sisters drank coffee. Anything that could cause even the slightest alterations in thought patterns was banned. That was one of the reasons augurs were such pariahs. Frankincense burning was seen as violating that tenet.
So Nel took a long, drawn out breath. She reveled in the stench of coffee. It was a good sign. It meant she hadn’t awoken in the hands of her would be murderers.
Whatever she lay on was not the most comfortable bed she’d ever woken up on. It was far from the worst. The odd slant made her think it was more of a couch or a bench than a bed. Nel had to stop her body from trying to correct itself.
She wanted to keep pretending to be unconscious as long as she could.
Without opening her eyes, Nel glimpsed the room she was in.
It was an office. A heavy wooden desk sat near one wall with two comfortable chairs on the visitor’s side. Stacks of papers covered the desk. To one side looked like a rolling tray of medical supplies. Tweezers, bandages, cutting instruments, ointments, and potions. Some were covered in blood. Nel’s blood, most likely. The couch she lay on rested against one wall of the room with a portable privacy curtain blocking the view to the rest of the room..
Apart from herself, the room was empty.
Nel looked better than she expected. An IV drip had been attached to one of her arms. The other was hidden beneath a blanket. She could feel a cast on it when she tried to wiggle it. There was no pain, but she didn’t feel hopped up on drugs. Maybe her body had simply gotten used to whatever feelings while she was unconscious.
It took willpower to avoid bolting upright.
More than five days couldn’t have passed. Not unless Sister Cross hadn’t reported her missing. Otherwise she’d be back in their custody without a doubt.
Carefully, Nel peeked open a single eye. It wasn’t that she distrusted her glimpse, but she half expected to find Sister Cross glaring over her.
That wasn’t the case. She lay on a couch with a blanket and an IV drip behind a privacy curtain.
A long sigh of relief escaped her lips.
Nel slowly and carefully pulled herself into a sitting position. Very carefully. The last time she checked, her back had glass stuck in it. Yet nothing hurt on her way up. She took a quick glimpse to inspect her backside.
