Sister Wheel devoted a lesson to the sin of pride. “We are none of us more than a twig in the great tree of the Ancestor. The gifts the Ancestor has given us are for the benefit of all, not the aggrandisement of the individual. Pride is a poison that corrupts.” She turned her watery eyes on Nona. Nona resisted asking if the Chosen One was just another twig.
Sister Rail directed Academia lessons back towards algebra as if knowing how much Nona hated it. Of those without rumbling stomachs Zole was the only one able to cope with the scrawl of letters and symbols the nun covered her board in.
Sister Apple devoted two lessons to a dissection of Nona’s tactics in the trial, keeping the resentful focus of the class on the origin of their distress.
“If you can’t disguise yourself as someone else, then disguising others as you is sometimes an option. Keep this fact in mind. If you’re set to trailing a target you might be tempted to fixate on one marker they can’t discard. Perhaps their height. Perhaps they’ve lost an arm. These can be reliable when the target doesn’t suspect they are being followed—but if they are suspicious then these seemingly unique markers can be the very thing they use to make you fail. You might find yourself pursuing another very tall man, another one-armed woman, offered up to take advantage of your laziness.” She concluded with the box. “The box is there to teach a lesson. Its secret is revealed when sisters take the Grey. We will need a new way to teach that lesson now. At least for enough years to outlast the convent’s memory. It’s there to teach Sisters of Discretion that whilst there is a time to be subtle, a time for stealth, deception, and the lightest touch, there is also always when the seconds are running out and we come to the sharp end of things the possible need for violent and direct action. Never be so focused on picking a lock that you forget kicking down the door is also an option.”
In Blade sword training continued but Sister Tallow took half a lesson to talk about the upcoming Ice Trial. “Sister Egg will be staying with us for four weeks to instruct you on surviving the ice. You’ll need more than range-coats and convent shoes out there. You’ll need to learn the nine basic types of snow, how to spot and traverse a crevasse, how to build shelters, cook food . . . four weeks will just scratch the surface. More novices have died on the Ice Trial than any other, so pay attention! Even if you take the ordeal of the Shield you will have Sister Rose on hand to try to fix whatever holes might get put through you. On the ice you will be alone, no matter how many novices are with you.”
Nona’s days rolled by: lessons amid the sullen regard of her classmates, nights in a dormitory full of rumbling stomachs, breaks in the cloister where her victory was replayed by Ara and the others over and over. And through it all Joeli Namsis watched her, with just the hint of a mocking smile on her lips. She didn’t have to say it. Hessa. Nona could triumph in as many convent games as she liked. The real world lay outside, and on the one occasion that world had reached into Sweet Mercy Nona’s friend had died. Yisht walked free out there. Sherzal had the shipheart. Nona’s success meant nothing.
* * *
• • •
WHEN THE SUMMONS came to present herself before Abbess Glass Nona had no idea what to expect. She took herself to the door of the abbess’s house and her knock was answered by Sister Pail who led her to Glass’s office.
The abbess sat behind her desk with a welcoming smile and eyes that took Nona’s measure. In a convent full of women honed into athletes by Blade training, and deadly with their hands, it often surprised Nona that ultimate authority rested in the palm of a motherly woman, somewhat overweight, hair streaked with grey, who wouldn’t last more than moments against the youngest hunska half-blood. But then Nona would remember how that old lady’s palm came to bear such a mass of burn scars and her question would be answered.
“Nona, have a seat.”
Nona sat and waited.
“Your performance in the Shade Trial was a triumph.”
Nona waited for the “but.”
“But I want you to think about what role awaits you in the wider world, however narrow it might be when you leave our convent. Out there you can’t always win. No one person, no matter what amount of physical skill they might have, can change the tide of a war, or deflect the uprising of a political movement. Not even the most famed of Mystic Sisters, with the power of the Path running through their veins, were single-handedly responsible for defeating nations or able to steer the populace.
“From the outside Sweet Mercy looks very small. Our job here is to teach you to deal with failure as much as it is to teach you to win. We have failed to teach you about failure. I tell you this as I fear time is running out and simply hearing the lesson may have to stand in for being shown it.”
Nona opened her mouth to explain how she had learned that lesson when she failed Hessa, but her lips couldn’t shape the words.
“You’re powerful Nona, and you’ve come into your power at an early age. The understanding that power corrupts is an idea older than the language we repeat it in. All of us in positions that afford authority over others are susceptible, be we high priests, prime instigators, even abbesses.”
“Or emperors,” Nona said.
The abbess winced. “Some truths are better left implied, dear.” She glanced at the door then continued. “The Church has power and the Inquisition is intended to keep it from corruption. The Red and the Grey are a power and among the high priest’s tasks is to ensure those who direct them are not led astray from the righteous path. Each member of the Red and the Grey is a power in themselves and it is my job to ensure they remember their strength is a gift intended for service. And of course there are the shiphearts. Each a source of vast potential . . . but do they corrupt the ones who direct that strength?”
Nona said nothing. She didn’t know the answers, saving that she was already tainted and the stain upon her had his own name.
“I tell you this, Nona, because difficult times are ahead for us all and I want you to have faith in what we’ve taught you here. What I’ve taught you. When strength is in your hands there is a temptation to lash out against what looks like injustice. But our rules are all we have to stop everyone lashing out, each to their own sense of justice. Battles are better fought within the system, even when it seems broken.” The abbess sighed. “You’re young and I’m boring you. Run along. But don’t forget what I’ve told you.”
Nona ran as instructed, but it wasn’t boredom that snapped at her heels, but a host of worries, unused to such young prey.
* * *
• • •
“READY?” THE FOUR of them stood around the well-head in the laundry room. It was now the safest route into the caves. Seven-day trips into Verity had been suspended to allow the Inquisition closer observation of the convent and its inhabitants. Brother Pelter’s watchers numbered eight now, swelled by new arrivals from the Tower of Inquiry.
“Ready.” Ara held the lantern.
“Ready.” Jula peered down the well.
“For Hessa.” Ruli nodded.
“For justice. I’m going to get Sweet Mercy its shipheart back. I’m going to kill Yisht. And Sherzal is going to bleed for her crimes.” Three impossible things, but passing the Grey Trial had seemed impossible just days ago. The abbess had cautioned Nona about failure, but she had also told her to have faith.