Hades

25 Get Thee to a Nunnery

I was surprised when Gabriel and Ivy decided to change and head straight to the abbey after dinner with Xavier and Molly in tow. It was close to ten o’clock and I’d assumed they would call it a night and wait until morning. But something must have made them feel they shouldn’t delay any longer.

Outside, the night air was crisp and the sky was a cape of royal blue velvet scattered with stars and wispy clouds. If it wasn’t for the threat that lurked behind the woods opposite the highway, I would have felt entirely at peace. The sound of cicadas filled the air and a mild breeze played gently with Ivy’s hair before drifting off to ruffle the treetops. There was something about this place, a quiet dignity and a grace from a forgotten time. It held an air of mystery, as if the weeping willows knew something we didn’t.

Molly shivered as they crossed the highway and let themselves meld with the shadows dancing among the trees. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself and drew instinctively closer to Xavier. He slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. I was relieved to see a flicker of his former self beneath the brooding exterior. I knew the stress was getting to him more every day, eroding his usual easygoing manner. It was part of the reason he and Molly were always at each other’s throats. He was at odds with himself, I realized. Half of him saw Molly as a connection to me as well as a reminder of our old lives at Bryce Hamilton. The other half couldn’t help but let his concern for my safety overwhelm him. At times like these I knew he both resented Molly for the séance and blamed himself for not being able to change the turn of events.

“You’ll be all right,” he told her. “We’ll all be all right.” I saw the faraway expression in his eyes and knew he was thinking of me. He had to believe I’d be okay in order to keep going. I needed him to believe it too. It was his faith that was keeping mine alive. I wondered if I should try and make my presence known to him, but I was too drained from the recent ordeal to be anything other than a passive spectator.

The woods grew thick and fast, but Gabriel’s finely tuned senses managed to quickly locate the dirt road Denise had mentioned. It was just wide enough to allow cars to pass through, but had been neglected over the last few months and bordering shrubs were already weaving their way across it. Tree branches hung low, drooping over the road, and clumps of sodden leaves muted the footsteps of visitors. The moonlight shining through the trees bathed the path in a milky gray light. A crescent moon dipped periodically behind the treetops plunging the path into occasional darkness. It was a good thing Gabriel and Ivy radiated light from their skin. It was faint, like the glow of a cell phone in a darkened room, but better than nothing. When an owl hooted from somewhere above, Molly stumbled and cursed under her breath. Almost imperceptibly, Gabriel dropped his pace so he fell into step with her. Although he didn’t say a word, she seemed soothed by his presence.

Soon the trees thinned and the looming shadow of the old convent became visible. The Abbey of Mary Immaculate was a three-level, whitewashed Gothic Revival building. It had an adjoining chapel with spires rising to pierce the night sky, a reminder to onlookers of the Lord’s lofty presence. There were rows of pointed windows across every floor, cast-iron gates and a gravel path leading to the front door. A lamppost illuminated the front garden with its grotto housing a statue of Our Lady as well as kneeling saints positioned among the tall grass. What was most disturbing was the derelict air of the place — the weeds that had sprouted up and overtaken the entrance to the chapel, the leaves that clogged the path and the boarded-up windows on the attic floor.

“I wonder how many sisters live here,” Xavier murmured. Gabriel closed his eyes and I knew he was reaching out and tapping into the history of the place, its life before recent events. He was always careful not to intrude too deeply on the private thoughts or feelings of individuals; he only brushed the surface to ascertain their identity. “There are twelve sisters in total,” he said eventually. “Including the one who is afflicted.”

“How did you know that?” Molly asked. “It looks like no one lives here at all.”

“Now is not the time to ask questions,” Ivy said patiently. “You will witness many things tonight that cannot be explained.”

“I find it’s easier if you don’t overthink it,” Xavier advised.

“Just how am I supposed to do that?” Molly complained. “I feel like I’m waiting for someone to jump out and tell me I’ve been punk’d.”

“I think they only punk famous people,” Xavier said under his breath.

Molly looked annoyed. “That’s not helpful!”

“Look.” Xavier turned to face her. “Let me try and help you out here. You know when you’re watching a horror movie and the character always decides to go into the dark room where the killer’s waiting?”

“Yeah?” Molly said blankly.

“Do you ask why the character’s dumb enough to go into that room?”

“Well, no, it’s a movie. You just go with it.”

“Exactly,” Xavier said. “Think of this like a movie and don’t ask questions. You’ll only make things harder on yourself if you do.”

Molly looked like she wanted to argue, but a moment later she bit her lip and nodded hesitantly.

The locked gates opened easily at Gabriel’s command and the group slowly approached the steps of the abbey’s front porch. I saw the concern on Ivy’s face intensify — deep, uneven grooves were etched into the timber boards, at least half an inch deep. They extended along the front and veered sharply off toward one of the windows as if someone had been dragged back inside after putting up one hell of a fight. My mind immediately thought of the poor human who had been possessed to act in such a way. The scratches in the porch were deep enough that shards of wood must have been driven beneath her nails. I shuddered to think what other damage had been done to the afflicted sister.

The wraparound porch was long and sheltered with pretty white awnings and posts. A pair of wicker rocking chairs sat beside a table still set for afternoon tea. Insects had laid claim to the biscuits on the plate and the tea in the china cups had grown moldy. A string of rosary beads lay on the ground as if someone had dropped them in a great hurry. The screen door looked scratched and the mesh torn as if someone had tried to rip it from its hinges. Xavier and Gabriel exchanged uncertain glances.

“Here goes,” Xavier said with a heavy sigh. He reached out and lightly pressed the brass doorbell. Immediately the sound of chimes echoed dimly from within. For several long minutes they were met with nothing but silence.

“They can’t ignore us forever.” Ivy folded her arms across her chest. “Ring again.”

Xavier obliged, holding the bell down longer. The chimes reverberated more loudly this time, sounding almost ominous as if heralding a message of impending disaster. If only the sisters knew that help was waiting outside. There was a rustling sound in the foyer, but the door remained unopened. Ivy or Gabriel could have blown it apart in a heartbeat, but I supposed that wasn’t the best impression to make when trying to convince a nervous nun that you’re on the same side.

“Please open the door.” Gabriel leaned against the fly screen, his words coaxing. “We’ve come to help.” The door opened a crack, the security chain still on. A face appeared and surveyed my brother with caution.

“My name is Gabriel, this is my sister and these are our friends,” he continued soothingly. “May I ask your name?”

“I’m Sister Faith,” the nun replied. “Why are you here?” She was soft-spoken, but I could hear her voice was distorted with fear. Ivy decided to step forward and declare their intentions.

“We know about Sister Mary Clare and the cause of her illness,” she said in a voice filled with compassion. “You don’t have to hide anymore. The creature that has overtaken her — we can send it away.”

“You can do that?” Hope crept into the nun’s voice, but only for an instant before she became suspicious again. “I’m sorry I don’t believe you. We’ve called on every priest and minister in the county. They’re powerless against it. What makes you any different?”

“You have to trust us,” Ivy’s said solemnly.

“Trust is somethin’ we’re a little short on these days.” The nun’s voice broke off with a quiver.

“We know things,” Ivy pressed. “We have knowledge others cannot possess.”

“How can I be sure you’re not one of them.”

“I take it you believe in God, Sister,” Gabriel said.

“I’ve seen things …” Sister Faith’s voice faltered, as though she were unsure what to believe anymore. Then she remembered herself. “Of course I do.”

“Then believe that He is here now,” Gabriel said. “I know your faith has been tested in the extreme, but it is not without cause. You have been touched by darkness, but you have not been broken. Now you shall be touched by light. Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven. Let us in, Sister; let God return to your home. If you turn us away you are succumbing to darkness.”

Molly stared openmouthed at my brother and there was a dead silence from inside the house. Then, slowly, the security chain was released and the front door of the abbey swung open. Sister Faith stood in the doorway, her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh my stars,” she whispered. “So He has not forsaken us.” Sister Faith was a robust-looking woman in her sixties with pale skin and a fresh-scrubbed face. Faint wrinkles were etched around her eyes and mouth and I wondered how many of those she had accumulated over the last few months. A lamp on the hall table illuminated the wide foyer and curved staircase, but there was a stale smell in the air.

While Gabriel and the others made their introductions I moved away to study the framed black-and-white photographs on the wall. The glass in every frame had been shattered so the images were blurred, but I saw they recorded the official opening of the convent in 1863. Originally the convent had been built to house a group of Irish nuns who ran it for half a century as an orphanage and refuge for young women who’d fallen into disrepute.

Sister Faith led us silently past a parlor where rows of thin mattresses had been lined up on the floor — the sisters were clearly too afraid to sleep upstairs. As we climbed the sweeping staircase I caught a glimpse of the storerooms, infirmary, and a rustic-looking kitchen all located on the ground floor. The place would have been beautiful once; cozy in winter, bright and airy in the summer, but now it was a broken home. The kitchen floor was littered with broken utensils as if someone had thrown them around the room. Broken chairs were stacked in a corner and torn linen lay in a heap by the door. I guessed from these observations that the sisters had tried to expel the demon on their own with little success. I looked away from the shredded pages of a Holy Bible. The sight made something deep inside me churn. It was strange to visit an earthly location so damaged by demonic activity. Something fierce and terrible had shaken the house to its very foundations, knocking over ceramic vases and toppling furniture. It was also stiflingly warm, and even in my spirit form I felt the heat crawling across my skin as though it were alive. Molly immediately tore off her jacket, but the others didn’t move, despite their discomfort.

On the second floor we passed the sleeping quarters with rows of cell-size bedrooms now stripped of their mattresses and the communal bathrooms. Finally we stopped at a winding mahogany stairwell leading to the attic where Sister Mary Clare had been isolated for her own safety as well as the safety of others. Sister Faith hovered uncertainly at the foot.

“Can you really return Sister Mary Clare to the hands of God?” she asked.

“We’ll need to assess her condition before we can answer that,” Gabriel replied. “But we will certainly try.”

Ivy touched Sister Faith gently on the arm. “Will you take us to her?”

The nun peered worriedly at Xavier and Molly. “All of you?” she asked in small voice. “Are you sure about that?”

Gabriel gave a tight smile. “They’re tougher than they look.”

At the top of the stairs was a single locked door. I could sense the evil pulsing behind it even in my astral form. It was like a physical force, trying to repel the presence of Ivy and Gabriel. In addition to the mustiness there was another smell seeping from under the door, the smell of rotting fruit when the flesh has turned saggy and gray and insects have begun to burrow into it. Xavier flinched while Molly coughed and covered her nose. My siblings showed no reaction. They stood together, shoulders touching in a gesture of complete unity.

“I do apologize about the smell,” Sister Faith said self consciously. “But there’s only so much air freshener can do.”

Outside the door, only a candle lit the tiny landing. It sat on an antique dresser dripping wax onto its silver holder. Sister Faith dug into her deep pockets to produce an old-fashioned brass key. Behind the door we could hear muffled thumps, ragged breathing, and the screech of a chair being dragged across timber boards. A sound like grinding teeth and a sharp crack like snapping bone followed. Sister Faith crossed herself and looked desperately at Gabriel.

“What if you can’t help her?” she whispered. “What if the Lord sent us his messengers and that fails too?”

“His messengers do not fail,” Ivy said calmly. She produced a black hair tie from her pocket and methodically pulled her curtain of golden locks into a ponytail. It was a small gesture, but I knew it meant she was preparing for a violent struggle.

“There’s so much darkness in there.” Sister Faith’s face was creased in pain. “Living, breathing, tangible darkness. I don’t want to be responsible for the loss of life—”

“Nobody is dying tonight,” Gabriel said. “Not on our watch.”

“How can I be sure?” Sister Faith shook her head. “I’ve seen too much now … I can’t trust … I don’t know how I’m supposed to …”

To my surprise, Xavier stepped forward. “With all due respect, ma’am, there’s no time to waste.” His voice was gentle but firm. “You’ve got a demon tearing apart one of your sisters and we’re on the brink of an apocalyptic war. These guys will do everything they can to help you, but you need to let them do their job.”

His gaze went blank for a moment as if he were remembering something that happened a long time ago. Then he refocused and put a hand on Sister Faith’s shoulder. “Some things are beyond human understanding.”

If my spirit form had allowed it, I would have cried at that moment. I recognized those words as my own. I had spoken them to Xavier that night on the beach when I’d taken a blind leap of faith and thrown myself from a cliff, letting my wings break my fall and revealing my true identity. When I had convinced Xavier it wasn’t all a bizarre prank, he’d been full of questions. He’d wanted to know why I was there, what my purpose was, and if God really existed. I’d told him: Some things are beyond human understanding. Xavier hadn’t forgotten.

I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. When I closed my eyes, it all came flooding back to me like a tidal wave. I saw the cluster of teenagers around the crackling bonfire, embers spitting from the flames like fiery jewels until they sank into the sand. I remembered the sharp smell of the ocean, the fabric of Xavier’s pale blue sweatshirt beneath my fingers. I remembered the way the black cliffs had looked like looming puzzle pieces against the mauve sky. I remembered the exact moment I had tilted my body forward and left gravity behind me. That night had been the beginning of everything. Xavier had accepted me into his world and I was no longer the girl pressed up against the glass looking in on a world I could never be a part of. The memory of it made me ache with longing. We had thought facing Gabriel and Ivy after I’d exposed our secret was a challenge. If only we’d known what lay in store for us.

The sound of the key turning in the lock drew my attention back to the present. Xavier’s words had encouraged Sister Faith to reveal what lay behind the closed door. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as the smell of rotting fruit grew stronger and a ripping snarl shot though the air. It seemed that time stood still as the door swung open in slow motion.

The room was rather ordinary; sparsely furnished and only somewhat larger than the cubicle-size bedrooms on the second floor. But what we found crouched inside the room was anything but ordinary.