Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,148
Drusilla at the front of the hall, surrounded by a half-dozen Hands.
“… Yes, Mother Drusilla?”
“You are to come with us immediately.”
Two black-robed Hands took hold of Mia’s arms, one apiece. The girl hissed protest as they dragged her from her stool and none-too-gently marched her toward the door. She heard Tric’s protest, a scuffle, the Revered Mother’s shouted command. Craning her neck, she saw the old woman stalking behind, surrounded by ominous, black figures. Her stare was a cool, ice blue.
“Mother Drusilla, where are you taking me?”
“My chambers.”
“Why?”
“An inquisition.”
“Into what?”
“The murder of Carlotta Valdi.”
Drusilla placed a crumpled sheet of linen in Mia’s lap and folded her arms.
“Explain this.”
The Mother’s chambers were nestled high in the Mountain, atop a seemingly endless flight of stairs. It was dimly lit by a sculpture of arkemical glass suspended from the ceiling. An ornate desk stacked high with parchment dominated the room, white furs on the floor, white paint on the walls. Overflowing bookshelves lined the chamber left and right, but behind the desk, the wall was carved with hundreds of recesses. Inside these alcoves, Mia saw all manner of oddities. A centurion’s dagger. An ornate rose of beaten gold. A bloodstained copy of the Gospel of Aa. A sapphire ring.
Mixed among the trophies, Mia saw hundreds and hundreds of silver phials, sealed with stoppers of dark wax. They were the same kind Naev had worn about her neck in the Whisperwastes. And in their center, an obsidian door was set in the rock, marked with strange, shifting glyphs.
Sat in an ornate, high-backed chair, Mia blinked at the linen Drusilla had presented.
“Explain what, Revered Mother?”
“This.”
Drusilla gathered up the sheet, held it before Mia’s face. There, soaked through the fabric’s weave, the girl saw a tiny smudge of dried scarlet.
Mia looked to the albino, who stood admiring the Mother’s collection of curios. He was barefoot as always, smooth, pale chest showing through the open neck of his silken robe. As ever, the speaker seemed singularly bored.
“It be the vitus of the slain one,” Adonai nodded, running his fingertips down one of the multitude of silver phials. “Undoubtedly.”
“I don’t understand,” Mia said. “It’s Carlotta’s blood. What’s this to do with me?”
Drusilla folded the sheet neatly, placed it back in Mia’s lap.
“This linen was stripped from your bed this morning.”
Mia frowned. Mind racing. Heartbeat quickening. “That makes no sense.”
“Can you explain how Carlotta’s blood got into your bed, Acolyte?”
Mia’s jaw flapped, eyes searching the room. She sucked a breath through gritted teeth. Remembering Diamo sitting alone at mornmeal. The image of Jessamine arriving only just in time for Spiderkiller’s lesson.
“Jessamine,” Mia spat. “She wasn’t at mornmeal. She must’ve put it there.”
“Jessamine was here in my chambers this morn, Acolyte,” Drusilla sighed. “Being questioned by me on this very matter.”
“Revered Mother, I had nothing to do with Lotti’s death. She was my friend!”
“There are no friends here, Acolyte. The wolf does not pity the lamb. The storm begs no forgiveness of the drowned. We are killers one, killers all.” Mia glanced up as the old woman echoed Cassius’s words; his warning to her in that lightless Godsgrave prison. “And though we’ve made it clear that the murder of fellow acolytes is a crime, if you admit involvement in Carlotta’s ending now, the Ministry will judge you lighter for it.”
“I won’t admit to something I didn’t do!”
“All evidence speaks to the contrary.” Drusilla perched on the edge of the desk, leaned close to Mia. The obsidian key at her throat glittered in the smoky light. “You are the only left-hander among the current flock. You stand to gain most by Carlotta being removed from Spiderkiller’s contest. You cannot account for your whereabouts yestereve, and the victim’s blood is found on your sheets—a fact which you yourself cannot explain. Has Carlotta ever visited your room?”
“No, but—”
“Was she cut in the altercation at the Sky Altar with Jessamine, perhaps? Could her blood somehow have gotten onto your clothing?”
Mia considered lying for a moment, but knew Drusilla would ask these same questions of everyone who witnessed the brawl. And to be caught in a lie now …
“No, Lotti wasn’t cut.” Mia frowned. “Why were you in my room, anyway?”
“Searching for Carlotta’s missing notebook, of course.”
“You honestly thought you’d find it? I’d have to be some kind of idiot to keep it in my room after slitting her throat, wouldn’t I?”
“But if you were being framed for the murder as you claim, would the killer