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But even so, when we gather for vespers and again for compline, I cannot help but look at my brothers with uncharitable suspicions in my mind. Did one of them get up in the night? I heard nothing—not even the snoring of Frère Bruno—so any one of them might have done so. But why? And what did the cat have to do with anything? Even if one of the brothers were sneaking into the pantry, I cannot fathom why anyone would want to strip a cat of her flesh.
Even if one of the brothers were sneaking into the pantry after vespers, I cannot fathom why he would want to strip a cat of her flesh.
They may be old footprints--I’m not certain--but they are all I have, and so I follow them.
After the last snap fills the air, the Healers weave a spell to fuse the bones of her fingers back together. To fill her up with something new. When they let her go, she crawls to the corner of her cell, holds her ruined hands to her chest, and sobs into the filthy straw.
By the time they snap her fifth finger, she doesn't have the strength to struggle anymore.
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He slices through the thong on the cover of the fish basket. Hundreds of sunken eyes stare accusingly up at him.
From the Archives:
Green life gave him more comfort than the image of a man nailed to a cross.