Archive of Our Own ^beta

“In Jesus’s name we pray, Amen.”

“Amen,” the parish echoed.

The end of church services for the morning was a relief for Leafpool’s back. She was glad she didn’t have to stand at the pulpit and deliver the sermon every morning anymore, but the pews were almost just as brutal. She was ready to head back to her dorm and spend two hours in bed before she had to get up for lunch at the cafeteria. Thornclaw had refused to serve her the last time she was late for lunch, telling her that tardiness wasn’t Godly. Nevermind that God didn’t want any of his children to go hungry.

“Leafpool, could we speak to you this morning?” Her sister’s unusually subdued voice asked from the pew behind her.

Leafpool sighed internally. Putting on her best Christian smile, she turned. “Of course,” she said. That same tone she used when her fellow clanmates would come to her for spiritual guidance. She was happy to help them find the Lord, no matter her mood, the time of day, how much she had or hadn’t eaten, how busy she was…

“I received a very strange letter last night,” Brambleclaw said. He was sitting beside his second-time fiancee, the both of them in their best church clothes. It bothered Leafpool a tinge how perfect they had become since their re-engagement. “I know you aren’t our pastor, but we were hoping to pray on it with you.”

“What was the letter? Who was it from?” Leafpool asked quizzically. Praying over a letter was an odd request.

“We don’t know who it was from,” Squirrelflight said. A touch of anxiety seeped into her tone. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It seemed, well. A little threatening, maybe.”

“In what way?” Now Leafpool was truly vexed. A threatening letter? And with no idea who it was from–the notion seemed ridiculous, but stranger things have happened. Especially regarding their conflicts with the other three parishes in the woods. It had to have come from outside of their parish. There was just no other explanation.

“You can read it,” Brambleclaw said. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, then handed it to her.

Leafpool examined the page. It was written in type, on a computer and then printed out. Likely to avoid anyone figuring out the culprit by matching up the handwriting. It did, however, have the nasty consequence of narrowing down the suspect list. There were only so many computers in these woods: one in each leader’s office, heavily secured and password protected. These could only be used under spiritual supervision by a leader or a minister. Then there was the computer lab on the island church, where they held services once a month for all four parishes. These were free to use, but required you to sign-in on a sheet, and they weren’t connected to the internet. The only printers in all of the parishes were in the ministry offices, as far as she knew.

It was also well-written. Threatening, for sure, but it was drafted up by somebody who was educated. This person also, for some reason, really did not want Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight to get remarried.

“Yes, we should pray,” Leafpool said. “But I wouldn’t worry too much about it. If somebody has resorted to sending letters, they have no real power. And nobody has as much power as our Lord Jesus Christ.”

“Thank you Leafpool,” Squirrelflight said with a relieved smile. She clasped her hands and bowed her head, her fiance following suit. Leafpool bowed her head as well, but she couldn’t focus on her prayer. She had a mystery to solve.

****

“Are you sure this sign-in sheet is accurate?” Leafpool asked for the third time.

“Leafpool!” Mothwing laughed. “I’m so sure that I would bet not just my life on it, but yours as well! The security cameras corroborate it. Nobody used the computer lab at last month’s service, and nobody has been here since.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” Leafpool muttered. She scratched her chin like they did in the Sunday School comics, hoping it would help her think. It reminded her that she needed to start moisturizing better.

“Have you considered profiling your suspect? They’re obviously a bit of a—uh. Religious zealot, one could say.”

“A zealot?!” Leafpool muttered angrily. She whipped her head around, like there would be anyone hiding in the bushes to overhear Mothwing besmirching the teachings of the church. “Divorce and remarriage are both prohibited in our doctrine. There’s nothing zealous about this person,” Leafpool whispered.

Mothwing whispered back in a mocking tone. “Okay, but nobody follows that, do they?”

“They should,” Leafpool argued. “But maybe you’re right. This person is traditional,” she said carefully.

“You’re one to argue about what the parish should and should not follow,” Mothwing smirked. “Do you want to talk about your bastard children, or do you want to make out?”

“I am solving a mystery!” Leafpool yelled desperately. “I can not be distracted by your seductive ways!”

Now it was Mothwing’s turn to look around the island frantically. “Great, I think they almost didn’t hear you on the moors. And I was worried we were having this conversation too quietly.”

Leafpool wasn’t even listening to the beautiful blonde anymore. “Does the computer lab lock from the inside?” She asked.

****

Leafpool was no closer to solving the mystery after her…detour. Hour long detour. In the computer lab. With her colleague. Doing normal…computer lab things.

She just couldn’t wrap her head around this. If the letter was typed and printed over a month ago, then she would have no way of figuring it out. The computer lab’s sign-in sheets were shredded at every half-moon.

If it was written in the last month…that made things interesting. It had to be written by a leader, or somebody under their supervision. Maybe a minister conspiring with a parishioner? She was starting to get a headache. Her back still hurt (even more so, in fact), and she had missed lunch. She paced in her dorm and stared mutinously at the cross on the back of her door.

Just a little guidance would be great, thanks. Amen.

She sighed and flopped down on her twin bed, groaning in relief. She decided she would relax for a few hours and regroup after dinner. Some rest and a warm meal would do a world of good for her thought process.

A knock on her door interrupted her peaceful relaxation. Leafpool groaned again, this time in exasperation. She reluctantly heaved her ragged body off the bed.

“I noticed you weren’t at lunch,” Briarlight said. Leafpool smiled at the young woman at her door. It was difficult to be mad at Briarlight when she was so kind to everyone. “So anyway, I brought you some leftovers,” Briarlight went on with a sweet smile. She lifted a plate covered with foil off her lap.

“Thank you Briarlight, that’s very nice of you,” Leafpool said. She grabbed the plate hastily, lifting the foil to reveal the lukewarm chicken, potatoes, gravy, and green beans. It still smelled heavenly. “Oh, you are a lifesaver,” Leafpool groaned. “You really didn’t have to come all the way here to give me this.”

“It’s nothing!” Briarlight said. “I was on my way back from the cafeteria to the ministry office, so you were on the way!”

Leafpool then noticed another plate with foil on Briarlight’s lap, which had been hidden before. “Who’s that one for?” Leafpool asked.

“Oh, you know Jayfeather always forgets to get lunch,” Briarlight sighed. “I figured I’d take him something today. He’s been in a bad mood this past week. Didn’t you notice his sermon this morning? Very fire and brimstone.”

“Right,” Leafpool said. Honestly, she usually zoned out during the sermons these days. There was nothing in the Bible that she wasn’t already an expert on. And Jayfeather was always in a bad mood; nothing new there. “Well, thank you again,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Briarlight said. She wheeled backwards and turned down the hallway. “Have a blessed day!” She called out behind her.

Leafpool shut her door. An idea was actually starting to form in her head, the more she thought about it. First, though, she looked down at the plate of food in her hands. She was going to demolish these leftovers, and then it would be time for the confrontation.

****

She really needed to start keeping antacids in her room. The heartburn was going to kill her one day. Leafpool picked a bottle up out of the communal medicine cabinet in the ministry office, hoping nobody would notice. She crunched on one and pondered her next steps.

“Pilfering the supplies again?”

Leafpool whirled around. The Lord works in mysterious ways. Jayfeather was apparently having his afternoon coffee in the communal area today. She hadn’t even noticed him when she walked in. Now that she had seen him, she tucked the antacids into her bag and crossed her arms, attempting a powerful stance. She then realized this would have no effect on her blind son and promptly gave up, letting her hands dangle at her sides.

“Did you write that letter to Brambleclaw?” She asked bluntly.

Jayfeather reached down thoughtfully to pet Rock, his service dog. Rock was very politely laying at Jayfeather’s feet as he was trained to do, and Leafpool resisted the urge to wave maniacally at the golden retriever.

“Tell me how you reached this conclusion,” Jayfeather finally responded.

“It’s obviously your style of writing,” Leafpool said. “And who else would be so pissed off about Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw getting remarried? I don’t think you care for religious reasons, though. No, it’s weirder than that.”

“Why wouldn’t it be for religious reasons? It’s heresy. That’s enough reason to be opposed to it.”

“For Christ’s sake, Jayfeather, they’re still your parents. They’re not going to remarry and push out ten babies and forget you and your brother exist.” Leafpool sighed.

Jayfeather sulkily drank from his coffee cup. “How would you know?” He muttered.

Leafpool sighed again, even louder. Damn her dramatic protege and all of his deep-seated issues. She wished she could pray them all away.

“No matter what situation you’ve concocted in your twisted mind,” Leafpool began.

“My twisted mind?” Jayfeather sputtered.

“No matter what,” Leafpool repeated louder, “you can’t go around sending people threats in their mail. I know that might be tough to hear.”

“Whatever,” Jayfeather said. “I guess I won’t do it again.”

“And you should apologize.”

“Not happening.”

“Well,” Leafpool said. “At least I tried. How did you get into Firestar’s computer without his supervision anyway? That’s what I can’t figure out.”

“Are you kidding?” Jayfeather asked. He raised his eyebrows. “His password is jesus123. It doesn’t take a genius to crack that one.”

“Oh God.” Leafpool planted her face in her hands. “Okay, we’re going to get him to change that.”

Jayfeather snorted. “Pray for a miracle,” he quipped.

Leafpool turned back to the medicine cabinet. She could always use some Tylenol as well.