Free The Islands of the Blessed by Nancy Farmer Page A

the chapel, and the beautiful stained-glass window. I spent many happy hours mixing inks in the library—such beautiful colors! I rolled out sheets of gold to decorate the manuscripts. And the food! We had chicken on Sundays, and bread and beer every day. We made wonderful syllabubs for saint’s days. As for the flummery …” Brother Aiden closed his eyes in ecstasy.
    â€œThe best kind, with nutmeg and cream,” Jack murmured. “Father told me.”
    â€œI can see why Severus wanted to leave,” the Bard remarked dryly.
    â€œYes, well, he’s a very spiritual man,” Brother Aiden said. “Grim’s Island was made for heroes like him. It’s the mostforbidding chunk of rock imaginable, and even Father Severus was taken aback by the sheer bleakness of the place. He arrived in a little coracle with only a sack of seeds and a few tools. He had to hunt all over the island for loose stones to build a hut. The only trees were on a mountain in the middle and beyond his strength to reach.
    â€œAt night Father Severus curled up in a sandstone cave hardly big enough for a family of foxes. By day he toiled unceasingly, digging seedbeds. He lived on seaweed and limpets. He drank rainwater caught in the rocks.
    â€œWinter came early. By then all the limpets had been eaten and the crops had withered from the cold. The hut was unfinished, and so Father Severus moved into the cave. He didn’t expect to survive. This would have depressed a lesser man, but he looked upon it as a chance to enter Heaven early.”
    â€œI remember,” said Jack. “He used to say the longer you lived, the more chance you had to sin.”
    â€œI’ll never understand Christians,” the Bard said, shaking his head.
    â€œThere was one chore Father Severus never neglected, no matter how ill he felt,” said Brother Aiden. “He always said his prayers—seven times a day, though it was difficult to tell time in such darkness. In between, he chipped away at the sandstone to enlarge the cave. One day his knife lodged in a crack, and when he worked it loose, a rock fell out of the wall. Beyond was a small chamber.
    â€œFather Severus felt something inside, wrapped in layers of wool. He hauled it out and carried it to the beach. It was oneof those rare nights when the stars were not hidden by clouds and a full moon shone everywhere. The wool was of very fine quality, white in the moonlight and embroidered with gold. Father Severus unwrapped it and found—”
    â€œFair Lamenting,” said Jack.
    â€œExactly. It was enfolded in a robe far too grand to have belonged to a monk.”
    â€œIt was Columba’s robe when he still ruled my order,” said the Bard. “He was leaving his magic behind in a place where he thought it would do no harm. Little did he know a bumbling idiot would root it out.”
    â€œI would call it honest ignorance,” Brother Aiden protested mildly, “which we all fall prey to—but to go on, Father Severus rang the bell. The sound rolled out over the sea, and all at once the waves became as smooth as glass. The wind died and a warmth like summer spread over the beach. It was as good as a feast to hear that music, Father Severus told me. All hunger, cold, and fear fled before it. In spite of his weakness he prayed for a long time, full of joy, and that night he slept like an infant. When he awoke, he found a fat salmon lying outside the cave, next to a stack of driftwood.”
    â€œIt was his first encounter with the mermaid,” said the Bard.
    Jack came alert at once. He’d heard vague rumors of a scandal between Father Severus and a mermaid, but no one would tell him the details. Pega thought there had been a love affair. She guessed there was a family of little half-monks living on a beach somewhere.
    â€œYou can put that fevered idea out of your mind at once,” the Bard said, reading his expression. “The