Chapter 5
Five
Bex
After putting on my last clean dress, I make my way down to the main-level parlor.
Night has fallen, and about half the scones in the parlor have been snuffed out, creating a peaceful ambiance.
No one’s around, but there are voices coming from the back hallway.
That same hall where those mysterious glowing yellow eyes watched us from the darkness.
Now, it’s full of light, making it so I can see the short corridor beyond the doorway.
As I approach the threshold, I note the two closed doors on the right side and two open doorways on the left.
There’s a larger door at the end of the hall.
I’m guessing that door leads outside, considering it’s secured with the same number of iron latches as the front doors.
“Tell me how you got out of that pickle?” I hear my sister’s voice float out from the first room to my left, which is a dining room.
It’s a deep, narrow room with more pine wood lining the walls and ceiling, matching every other room in this place.
Instead of sconces on the walls, there’s a small four-candle chandelier hanging from the center of the room, directly over the long dining table.
Nina sits next to Maureen, who sits at the head of the table.
When they spot me, Nina pulls out the spindle-back dining chair next to her. The luxuries and fine furniture in this inn are like nothing I’ve seen before, especially out here where they lack resources.
As I sit down, I drag my fingers across the smooth, carved edge of the table and ask, “Did you bring this with you when you first came to Gravers Junction?”
“You can say something like that. But we also have an expert carpenter in town who enjoys making furniture.” She then picks up a small silver bell and rings it. “So, how was your bath? Everything okay up there?”
“Yes, what happened?” Nina chimes in, abruptly shifting in her seat to face me. “We heard a loud noise and weren’t sure if it was you or someone else.”
Sheepishly smiling, I say, “Oh, I slipped getting out of the tub. Nothing hurt but my dignity.” That last part isn’t exactly a lie, since a stranger saw every curve of my bare body.
A petite woman with short brown hair enters the dining room, carrying a wooden tray that’s nearly as large as she is.
I jump up to help her with such a load, but the woman waves me to sit back down.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing as she balances the oversized tray with one hand.
“You stay put right there,” she says, her voice upbeat and brimming with energy. “I can handle it.”
How can a person with a delicate frame hold so much weight on that massive tray without faltering?
I watch in awe as the woman carefully sets the tray down at the other end of the table.
Then, as she places our dinners in front of us—roasted chicken legs, mashed potatoes, and sliced carrots—she says, “It’s nice to meet you both.
I’m Ruby, and I oversee most of the gardening in town and all the cooking for the inn. ”
“Nice to meet you, Ruby,” my sister says before turning her attention to the plate piled high with food. “I don’t know what seasonings you use, but this smells amazing.”
“Well,” Ruby says as she returns to the tray to grab a basket of rolls, some butter, and a small jar of jelly, “if you’re here long enough, I’d be happy to share some of my seasoning tips. I have a special closet where I dry out all of my herbs.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Nina says with delight. “Bex and I take turns cooking, and we aren’t the most creative with tasty dinners.”
Ruby sets the basket of rolls and condiments in front of us, and Maureen thanks the young woman before adding, “Is there any frozen cream left from last night?”
A wide smile spreads across Ruby’s face. “Just enough for you three.”
“Frozen cream? What’s that?” I ask.
“It’s a delicious cold treat that Ruby learned about from a friend who’s traveled the world.”
Nina stops spearing her carrots to ask, “Can I meet this friend of yours? I’d love to hear about their travels.”
With a low chuckle, Ruby shakes her head. “Sorry, but she doesn’t live in Gravers Junction. She usually comes through town once or twice a month.”
“I think it’s more than that,” Maureen says with a snicker.
There’s some unsaid inside knowledge being exchanged, but it doesn’t seem relevant to our being here, so neither Nina nor I press for more details.
Ruby returns to her tray and grabs the decanter and three crystal wineglasses. She sets one glass in front of each of us, then pours the red wine about half full in each glass. When done, she sets the decanter off to the right of Maureen’s plate.
“Will that be all?” Ruby asks, and when our host nods, Ruby picks up the enormous tray, gives us both a smile, and says, “I hope you’ll consider staying for more than a day or two.
We don’t get too many outsiders, and it’s always nice to meet and make new friends.
” To me, she adds, “If what Maureen said is true, that Persephone is truly gone, then we really could use your help in protecting…” Her voice trails off, and she looks to the older woman and then back to us.
“Uh, protecting the people of Gravers Junction.”
There seems to be a big secret about this town that people keep pausing about, as though they’re avoiding telling us something. I don’t press the topic, though. Instead, I say, “Oh, I’m no protector.”
“We’ll see about that.” It’s not Ruby but Maureen who answers.
“Whether you remain here or return home, your life going forward will be that of a protector. We can at least offer you a roof over your head and food in your belly while you learn the laws of the land and train to master your abilities.”
“Sounds like you’re offering us a permanent place to stay,” Nina asks with a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
“You’d be right in your assumptions. No one will ever force you to stay if you don’t want to, and you’ll always have a room here at Gravers Inn.
” She takes a long sip of wine before setting the crystal glass down.
“The point is, you’re a dustslinger now,” she says to me.
“If you’ve never thrown a punch or taken one, then you’ve got a lot to learn before you can stand on your own. And here’s the best place to do it.”
Pressing my palms flat against the table, I stare at my plate of food and say with disdain, “I didn’t ask for this. I came here to tell you that woman’s message, to get you to heal whatever this is she afflicted me with, and then go back to my normal, safe life.”
Ruby takes her tray and quietly leaves while Maureen picks up her chicken leg and tears into it. After a few bites, she wipes the corners of her mouth and says, “You dwell too much on the past. You need to focus on the future. Your dustslinger powers aren’t something you can simply get rid of.”
There’s that odd word again—dustslinger. And what does she mean by powers?
Anger and frustration simmer beneath my skin. Displeased with the unfolding conversation, I snap, my voice sharp, “That woman forced it out of her and into me! There has to be a way to get it out of me!”
“Her name was Persephone, and her magic is a part of you now. I don’t even understand how she forced it out of herself and put it in someone else!
” Maureen takes a deep breath and sips her wine.
Then she calmly adds, “Please, sleep on it, deary. Decisions like this can’t be made on a whim.
Besides, I haven’t even given you the grand tour of our quaint little town. ”
Nina and I share a defeated glance.
Before I can speak, our host says, “No more talk about staying or going. Let’s finish our delicious supper. No need to let all this delicious food get cold.”
Once our plates are empty, Ruby returns and clears the table.
Then, shortly after, she brings us each a small bowl of this frozen cream.
It’s white like milk, but not drinkable.
When she hands us some spoons, Nina doesn’t hesitate to scoop some into her mouth.
Her eyes close, and she sinks into her seat with a moan.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Opening her eyes and going in for a second bite, she tells me, “Bex, you’re going to love this.”
“It tastes even better with apple pie,” Maureen shares.
“That’s right!” Ruby exclaims. “If you all decide to stay, we’ll have a feast to celebrate, and I’ll make extra frozen cream and plenty of pie.”
I cut my spoon through the frozen cream, then lift it to my nose first. There’s a strong hint of vanilla, which I love using when baking cookies.
I put the spoonful in my mouth and slowly slide the metal utensil out while savoring the sweet, cold dessert.
Nina was right. This is probably the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
Before spooning up another bite, I can’t help but suck the spoon, wanting to get every bit of frozen cream off.
And, of course, as I’m sitting here sucking on a spoon, Garrett walks into the dining room.
Our eyes briefly lock, and I quickly slip the spoon free of my mouth and set it on the table.
He clears his throat and looks to our host. “Everyone’s inside and secure.”
“Thank you.” Then as he’s turning to leave, Maureen calls for him to stay. “I believe I forgot to introduce you to our local sheriff, Garrett Redthorne. But no one calls him Sheriff, just Garrett.”
“You’re the local sheriff?” I almost choke on my question.
“Where’s your badge?” Nina asks, still eating her frozen dessert. I swear she’s about to lick the bowl like a famished canine.
He pulls out a silver badge hanging from a long thin chain, hidden beneath his shirt. There’s some tarnish along one of the star spokes, and I’m guessing it’s a hand-me-down. “It’s not official like they do in your neck of the country,” he explains. “But it’s official enough for these parts.”