Chapter 9

563 11 1
                                    

Wynny and Delaena were back for morning classes, looking slightly worn out but very much alive.  Delaena wore a slightly pained expression which I could only attribute to the fact that she had been forced to interact with the less fortunate.  Wynny breathlessly pulled me aside before mid-day song, and we quietly snuck to the back of the prayer room.  Hidden behind the large curtains that covered the window, there was a panel door.  It blended seamlessly into the wood of the walls, and we had stumbled on it quite by accident years passed.

Hesther and Janelle had been dancing together, Janelle taking on the role of the gentleman while Hesther simpered and curtsied.  I was standing with Kara and Karan laughing as we watched Janelle lead Hesther around the room, giving her a sudden twirl.  Hesther, having caught her feet in the long curtain stumbled forward.  She almost caught herself, but her body was pitched too far forward and she went headlong into the wall.  For a moment there was dead silence, followed by Kara and I jumping to our feet and rushing over to where Hesther had disappeared.  Janelle was frantically throwing the yards of red curtain aside, afraid to find Hesther’s prone body on the ground.  Instead we found her standing beside an opening in the wall, gesturing at us to be silent.  The weight of Hesther stumbling into the wall had opened a spring mechanism exposing the secret doorway.

The room turned out to be some sort of cellar.  The walls were of the same stone the convent was built with, and the floors were bare.  The ceiling was maybe ten feet high with an old chandelier, empty of candles that could be lowered and then fixed back to the necessary height by a rope tied to the wall.  An old wooden table covered in dust was set against the far left wall, but otherwise the room was empty.

Hesther turned towards us, a huge smile on her heart shaped face. 

“They must’ve forgotten this room ever existed!!” she said stepping into the dark space.

“This is perfect!!” she continued.  “We can make this our secret meeting spot.” 

Stepping into the dark room, I felt a slight tingle, like all my senses were buzzing at the same time.  Shaking my head, it disappeared.  Further inspection of the room uncovered nothing unusual.

And so it became our secret room.  When one of us needed to meet secretly with another, we would creep behind the curtain, slipping into the room unnoticed.  Often times we would find one another in the room just to escape the monotony of prayer and song.  It wasn’t often that we were missed in the large group of all the girls at the convent during these times, and it was hard to accuse any of us of skipping prayer time when we entered and left with the rest of the girls from the large prayer room.

Wynny and I took our places as close to the red curtain covering the hidden door as possible, waiting patiently as more girls filtered into the room chattering away during the brief moment they had to gossip with their sisters.  Shooting me a quick smile, Wynny inched towards the curtain and quickly stepped behind it.  I waited two minutes, counting the seconds in my head, and carefully checked to make sure I was not being watched.  I stepped towards the curtain, preparing to slip behind it when Sister Mary caught my arm.

I felt the blood drain from my face.  I’d been caught.

Turning me towards her, Sister Mary dropped my arm.

“Morgana, a moment if you please.” She said looking down her hooked nose at me.

Sister Mary was one of the oldest women at the convent.  She was tall, and built more like a man than a woman.  She had a thick jaw and a thin wide mouth that seemed permanently set in a frown of disapproval.  Stray wisps of stiff white hair poked out from under her head dress, and her upper lip had several dark hairs sprouting.  It was said that Sister Mary was the daughter of a very powerful Baron.  Once he realized that his only child, a girl no less was no beauty he had her shipped off to the convent and had never seen her again.  On his death bed he had claimed no children, effectively denying any place for Sister Mary in his household.

SorceressWhere stories live. Discover now