VOX

Ch 8

Perhaps the only other perk to having nightmares, besides late night tea or warm milk with Sister Zinnia, was the night. At the compound she had free reign of the bathhouse, could sneak a snack from the dark and still Big House, or could read into the early hours of the morning without fear of being discovered. At Robert's, there was a secretive night world.

From the window in her room she looked over Bell st, and had a view of the docks, where people would come and go at the oddest hours. People would board ships in the dead of night, carry boxes while looking over their shoulders, stray cats and dogs would sprint from shadow to shadow, and she'd even seen a hooded figure follow someone.

What surprised her the most was seeing the familiar knitted hat and sweater clad outline of Finn amongst these people.

She had woken up panicked and out of breath from a dream where a streaking Angelonia chased her through dark corridors, rusted chains around her ankles slowing her down until the blood-soaked sister was upon her. The features of nightmare Angelonia were all wrong, the usual glowing skin and high cheekbones of the girl she had spent years resenting, were sunken in and unnaturally pale. The louder the screamed the faster the blood streamed down her throat, until it mixed with the dirt on the ground and created a haunting red mud.

Throwing on one of the oversized sweaters and slightly cracking the window, to chase away the stench of blood and dirt that caked her nose, she assumed her perch at the top of her bed. She had been following the antics of a seagull trying to peck at a bag of peanuts someone had dropped on the ground, when she first saw him. Finn had his head down, almost like he was trying to hide his face from onlookers, as he walked quickly towards the house from the docks.

I wonder what he's up to? She'd have her answer soon, for she watched him sneak back into the house the next three mornings in a row.

On the fourth night she followed him.

Armed with the thickest pair of dark pants, layered shirts, a trusty sweater that came down to the middle of her thighs, her coat, and her precious shoes, she was ready to snoop. The moment the night air bit at her exposed cheeks she mentally cursed herself for not grabbing one of the scarves that hung on the many hooks near the front door. She knew from her night watches that Finn always came from the docks so that's where she headed.

To Davina the docks were funny looking. If someone were to round the corner and have no idea of the docks' presence, it looked like the Redwell sat on the edge of the world. The busy streets of Redwell suddenly ended, as if they refused to cross some imaginary line, or had a peace treaty with the Sea. Only a few circular wood beams separated them from the cold and unforgiving waters below. If it weren't for the few lamps on boats that bobbed up and down on the water and a cluster of lights off to the side, the darkness would have swallowed her whole.

Now came the part she was dreading. Suspecting that Finn was somewhere amongst those lights to her left, she would have to climb down onto the rickety looking wooden platform suspended just above the water. There were metal ladders spread out every few yards, allowing people to descend onto the dock, but to Davina it looked like a death trap.

Trying to ignore her shaking hands as they wrapped around the frigid metal, she concluded that dangling herself over old wood, practically asking the sea to sweep her away, was perhaps the stupidest thing she'd done in her whole life. And she'd done some pretty stupid things. Memories of setting the chickens loose in the community, and hiding all of the veils were personal favorites. She replayed them while attempting to dissociate from the idea of slipping off the damp metal and drowning.

She mouthed a prayer of gratitude towards Soldeus when her shoes touched the wood planks before she realized what she had done. She blinked slowly, stunned at the action, and walked towards the light. Determined to forget the large portion of her life that had been an outright lie, she was surprised at the brief second of comfort praying had brought her. She chalked it up to habit, she had spent her entire life praying and working, so perhaps returning to her old ways in a moment of stress or fear would be calming and normal. Right?