Page 76 of The Familiar

Then right on the heels of that wild, delicious feeling came fear, a cold hand pressed against her mouth, a sinking in her gut. She saw Teoda’s ferocious eyes, her father’s bowed head, the frightened soldier following as the Holy Child was carried away. Luzia thought of the shadows clutching at her skirts, their claws digging into her skin. She imagined the cell where Teoda would be brought, the tortures she might endure. The inquisitors weren’t allowed to spill blood, but they could pop her bones from their sockets, bind her small arms and legs with ropes they cranked tighter and tighter until she screamed out her confession. There were whispers of worse things, of spikes that fornicators were made to sit on, of an iron fork fitted beneath the chin to force your head upright. The Inquisition treated all heretics the same way, and a child sinner was no less dangerous to the soul of Spain.

She was surprised when Valentina set a plate of cheese and olives before her.

“You should eat,” she said.

“I have no appetite.”

“Even so,” said Valentina. “Just a little.”

Luzia forced herself to eat a bite of cheese and take a sip of wine.

“Better,” said Valentina. She was wearing her cream velvet today and she ran her thumb over a line of the umber embroidery. “It’s an impractical gown. The velvet will be so hard to keep clean.”

Luzia supposed that would be a problem for Juana or some other servant now. There would be no return to the safety or the drudgery of the larder. “Do you know where Concha went?”

Valentina shook her head. Her finger continued to follow the scroll of embroidered leaves, as if trying to memorize it. “There are whispers about what you did last night. When others ran, it was you who … I’m told you were brave.”

“I’ve never been more frightened.”

Valentina glanced up at her. “But you didn’t run.”

“I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

Valentina nodded. “Eat some more cheese.”

CHAPTER 35

It was long after midday when Luzia heard a light scratch at the door. Marius and Valentina rose. But when Luzia made to open it, Santángel stepped in front of her. In case of what? Monsters? The alguacil? Did she fear demons or the Inquisition more?

Antonio Pérez stood in the hallway, accompanied by the man with the dyed-red beard and a clutch of his liveried guards.

“I’ve come to see my scullion,” he said, looking past Santángel with a warm smile.

He stepped inside and closed the door, leaving his retinue to wait in the hall. Pérez was beautifully dressed in plum velvet, heavily embellished with silver cording, the collar and shoulders plumped with amethysts.

Luzia knew she didn’t look as she should. Her gown was rumpled and she wore nothing to cover her freckles. Her hair hadn’t been bound up properly and lay in a single damp braid. All she could do was curtsy and keep her eyes on the floor, attempting to look modest and serene.

“Last night was frightening, wasn’t it?”

Luzia nodded.

Pérez glanced at the Ordoños. “And you’re all a bit frightened of me too, I think.”

“No, señor, of course not,” Marius protested.

“We are grateful guests,” said Valentina.

“And you, Luzia?” Pérez queried.

Luzia knew better than to lie in this moment. “Of course I’m afraid of you.”

“Luzia!” Valentina squeaked.

“Do tell me why,” said Pérez.