Page 30 of The Year of the Witching

Judith’s eyes filled suddenly with tears, and she began to tremble. For one absurd moment, Immanuelle thought to reach for her, as if there was something she could do to stay whatever fate awaited her in the form of that strange, sneering man at the hall’s end.

But then Judith started forward, each step slow and heavy, her velvet skirts trailing behind her as she went. Immanuelle saw the terror in her eyes as she brushed past the threshold to the man who stood waiting for her, rounded a corner, and disappeared.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

We have broken ourselves to be together. The fragments of me fit with the fragments of you, and our remnants have become greater than the sum of who we used to be.

—FROMTHELETTERSOFDANIELWARD

IMMANUELLE FOUND EZRAjust outside the front gate in the eastern pastures, standing beside the same cottonwood he’d been reading under when she first arrived. In his good hand, the reins of a tall black steed. In his bad one, a stained rag he gripped to staunch the bleeding. “What took you so long?” he demanded.

Immanuelle forced herself not to stare at his hand. “Your lovely mistress caught me in the halls. She wanted to chat.”

“Judith?”

“Yes, Judith,” Immanuelle snapped, suddenly furious. “What, do you have trouble remembering them all?”

Ezra frowned. He forced his good hand toward her and nodded to the cart. “Climb up. I’m taking you home.”

Immanuelle didn’t move. “What’s between you two?”

“What?”

“You and Judith. What’s between you?”

“There’s nothing between us.”

Immanuelle fought the urge to fold her arms over her chest. “I saw her kiss you, and it didn’t seem like it was your first time.”

Ezra’s hand tightened around the rag, and he worked his jaw. “No, it wasn’t. But it was the last.”

Immanuelle knew then that she ought to bite her tongue, leave Ezra to his sins. But then she thought of that strange, sneering man in the hall and the look of terror that had passed over Judith’s face when she walked to meet him. Her rage bubbled over, and the words tumbled out before she had the chance to bite them back. “Why did you start in the first place? Girls have burned on the pyre for less than the sins you committed together. My own father burned for lesser crimes.”

Ezra at least had the decency to look ashamed. “Immanuelle—”

“You knew the danger. You must have.”

“I did. We both did.”

“So why?” she demanded, motioning to his hand. “Why risk everything?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Immanuelle’s thoughts went to her father. She imagined him with her mother, meeting in secret as Ezra had with Judith. She thought of all they’d risked for each other: their happiness, their faith, any chance they’d ever have at a future. “You’re right,” said Immanuelle tightly. “I’ll never understand why people choose to hurt those they claim to love.”

“I don’t love Judith, and she doesn’t love me. It’s not like that. It never was.”

“It didn’t appear that way the other night.”

“Well, everything isn’t always the way it appears,” he said, frustrated. “Look, Immanuelle, if you want a story about love and loss and heartbreak, you should’ve taken a book from the library. What Judith and I had was nothing like that.”

“Then why bother with it in the first place?”

“We’re done discussing this.” He nodded toward the cart. “Now, come on.”

“I’ll walk.”

“No, you won’t,” said Ezra, turning to harness his steed to the cart. He struggled with the buckles a bit, wincing every time he was forced to use his bad hand. “Look, I’ve answered all of your questions to the best of my knowledge. I lied to my father to get you into the library, breaking at least half the codes of Bethelan Protocol in the process. So if you would be so kind as to allow me to escort you home, I’d greatly appreciate it. Is that agreeable enough for you or would you prefer it if I grovel?”

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