Sisters Three (Completed)

36. Morna (1/2)

Morna's carriage came to a slow stop at the tall iron gates that blocked the road to the asylum. As her driver jumped down and walked to pull a bell on one side of the massive brick wall that ran along the entire perimeter of the grounds, Morna sunk deeper in the blankets and pillows Brenna had packed away with her into the insides of the carriage.

With the creaking of metal, the gates began to open and the driver returned to his seat. They rambled through, passing a seemingly endless line of hedges that separated the path from the lawn and small copses of trees. Morna watched it all pass by with a sense of detached ambiguity, barely bringing herself to care that she would be spending the unforeseeable future behind these walls.

Finally, the house came into view over a small knoll, rising from the horizon flanked by trees. It could have been a mansion, somewhere that a duke might spend his summers, far from the noise of the city, nestled in the offerings of nature, yet the bars over the windows and the way a lower brick wall surrounded the front lawn gave it a stifling atmosphere. A guard approached the carriage before it reached the second gate, holding up his hand for the papers that explained Morna's need to be housed at the asylum. She, herself, waited with her back pressed against the side of the carriage, trying not to stare at the guns hanging on the sides of the guards who watched over the wall and gate.

The guard looked over the papers and handed them back to the driver before signaling to his companions to open the gate. As they passed through, Morna fixed her gaze on the approaching front door at the top of a set of steps that curled around a fountain and joined together with a landing. Relief washed through her that she wouldn't need to avoid the fountain, as it was empty and filled with dead leaves, but she still felt apprehension as she glanced at the sky to once again worry about the heavy gray clouds that gave everything the weighted feel of approaching rain.

"Stay here while I fetch the doctor," the guard called up to the driver, only briefly glancing at Morna through the carriage window as he jogged by and up the steps.

The guard was gone for a few minutes, in which time the sky rumbled with thunder and a slight drizzle began to wash the dirt of the long journey from the carriage. Morna recoiled from the window, slamming it shut, and closing her eyes. It didn't take long for the rain to increase into a downpour, pounding the roof of the carriage until she jammed the butt of her palms to her ears before the whispers could start.

Having cut her senses from the world, she jerked wildly away from the sudden feel of hands on her arm. Her eyes snapped open to see a worried looking young man standing framed in the carriage door, his hair dripping water and his white uniform coat so soaked that it revealed the gray trousers and shirt he wore beneath.

"Sorry, I didn't meant to startle you," he said, his accent tinged with the country's long and soft vowels. "I work here as an assistant, so I'm going to help you, all right? Now, let's get you inside where the doctor can look you over."

He reached for her arm again but she didn't budge when he tried to move her out of the carriage. His hand hovered uncertainly around her waist, unsure of why she hesitated.

Morna swallowed, her eyes shifting from his face to the gray downpour that obscured the house from their vision. The young man noticed, and Morna could see the gears working in his mind as he tried to fix the problem.

"You don't like the rain?" he asked, his voice still calm and almost curious, as if being afraid to step into the rain were a completely normal and ordinary thing to feel.

"I can't- I can't go in it-" Morna struggled to say, shaking her head as the tiredness of the fight washed over her. She didn't want to tell this assistant the story she would no doubt have to relate to the doctor in a moment. So many times she'd had to tell those who could never understand about her curse, and every time it never ended well. Let him find out when the doctor told the staff.

"I'll walk with you, how's that?" the young man said. "I don't have an umbrella, but I'll give you my coat."

Morna looked to his white coat again, doubtful that something as drenched as all that could offer her much protection, but he was already stripping it off. As he reached in to press his hand against her back to help her down, she hesitated for a moment before realizing that resistance would only use up more of her energy than she had. So with his hand guiding her to his side, and his other arm curving over her with his coat, they dashed for the steps and the open door.

Water splashed up Morna's legs, soaking her skirt, and she felt the familiar tug in her stomach yanking her away from reality. She bit down hard on her lip until she tasted blood and tried to focus on the warmth of the young man's hand against her spine, hoping against hope that these little bits of the world might be enough to stop her from listening to the incessant call of the water.