Birgitta the Nun

Part 4 - The Tour

When Birgitta returned with Madeleine to the salon, they found the wizard fast asleep. She lay sprawled on her back, covering almost the whole of the sofa, her lengthy legs folded at an awkward angle underneath her, so as not to fall to the floor. Her head turned to the side, drool escaped from her unclosed mouth, by now reached the velvety cushions of the settee.

"Poor bastard," Madeleine murmured.

"Not really." Birgitta studied the sleeping stranger. "She had it coming, I'm sure. None of her kind can bring any good." She gave the wizard a clap on the back and the old lady woke up with a yelp.

"Holy mother of God—"

"Yes?" Birgitta waited.

"I'm sorry—I fell asleep." The wizard clasped the hat on her head with one hand and pushed herself up from the seat with the other.

Birgitta gave Madeleine a look and folded her arms, waited for the wizard to collect herself. Madeleine said nothing, letting Birgitta take the lead.

"This is Madeleine, our newest recruit," Birgitta said after a pause. She waved her hand in front of the newbie, looking at neither Madeleine nor the wizard, instead, resting her eyes on the floor.

Madeleine gave the wizard a nod, her red eyes and her oversized vestment certainly contributing to the look of a recruit. With a meek expression she observed the disheveled guest, the drool on her cheek and her crease-covered robe.

"You may stay if you please," Birgitta continued. "The abbess has taken pity on you. Be grateful."

"Wonderful," the wizard exclaimed and waved her arms. "That's absolutely amazing. Let me be your humble guest. I want to know everything—"

"Don't be too hasty madame Wizard. You're not a nun, now, are you? Nor have you any desire to be one. Don't ask for more than you can handle—" Birgitta unfolded her arms and straightened her back. "However, let us show you a bit of the monastery."

The wizard nodded and followed her hosts out of the salon.

They entered one of the many corridors winding through the monastery. Not just any corridor but a particular one, Birgitta made sure to emphasize, as she explained their route. She pointed to some details, the distinctive cracks of the walls, the special fading of the floor, and made sure to underline this was a certain hallway and the wizard had better take notice.

The wizard agreed, yet failed to pay attention. Too many impression scattered about her not to make her lose focus. "So your chief, the abbess," she interrupting her guide, "what's she like?"

"Well—" Birgitta shrugged. "She's one of those boring persons, a little bit bitter but none too bright. She's cynical on the border of clairvoyant, which makes her life no easier. But you know how it is, being a wizard and all."

The wizard snorted. "A wizard is not a medium."

"Oh," Birgitta kept her stone face, "I'm not familiar with the jargon. To me it's all the same."

Madeleine made big eyes as she walked behind the two of them. The conversation did not escape her. Her darting glances told she wanted to find a window and make a run for it. She dropped back, fell some feet behind—changed her mind, hurried up. Stuck to the route.

Along the hallway walls, several important-looking portraits hung in neat little rows. All carefully painted in oil, surrounded by thick frames, stern faces of venerable nuns and abbesses looked on as the trio passed. The wizard stopped, knocked with her staff on the frame of one painting, "Where's the smile? It's not a mugshot is it?"