Chapter Three Riela
Chapter Three
Riela
I awoke slowly, like dragging myself out of a deep ravine. The first thing I noticed was the plush mattress under my back.
It took me longer to realize my bed had never been so comfortable.
My fingers twitched. The blanket covering me was woven from the smoothest fabric I’d ever felt. That alone was enough to get
me to open my eyes. The bedroom was massive, bigger than my entire cottage. The smooth blanket was a bright, cheerful blue,
and I touched it again just to ensure it wasn’t my imagination.
Had the saints seen fit to reward my bravery, even though I hadn’t defeated the monsters alone?
But no, I was still wearing the same clothes I’d worn into the forest. And dried blood and sap stained my hands and arms,
though the wounds had disappeared. I rubbed the back of my right hand to be sure, but the skin was unbroken.
My tunic had holes in it where the monster’s teeth had torn through, but my shoulder did not. My magic rose easily, and I
gasped in awe at what it revealed: the walls, bed, and even the sheets were saturated with dense, silvery magic.
This is what I’d felt at the edge of my senses, before the attack. Before the mage and the wolf had shown up. My eyes narrowed.
The mage who’d put me to sleep with ease, his magic crashing over me in a cascade of power.
Had he been the one to heal me?
I climbed from the bed, stretching muscles that were stiff and tight but not painful. Light streamed in from the window, so
I must’ve slept overnight, at least.
The room was large but sparsely furnished, with only a bed, a wardrobe, and a small writing desk. A thick layer of dust coated everything except for the bedding—someone had changed the sheets but hadn’t cleaned the rest of the room.
There were two doors, both closed. The door across from the window likely led to the main part of the house, so I opened the
other one and discovered a private indoor bathroom, a luxury only the wealthy could afford.
It took me longer than I would ever admit to figure out how everything worked, but eventually I was both relieved and slightly
cleaner. I glanced longingly at the tub. Washing my hands and face was nice, but a true bath, especially one where I didn’t
have to carry and heat the water, was a dream—a dream that would have to wait until I knew why I was here.
I returned to the bedroom to examine the window. Rather than a typical frame, the stone wall seemed to thin straight into
the glass itself, like a piece of dough pulled taut to check the kneading.
Both stone and glass were smooth and perfect, and when I ran my finger between them, I couldn’t feel a seam. It had to have
been made with magic, but mages with this kind of power had died out long ago—if they had ever existed at all.
But someone had created this.
Outside, the ground was far below, giving me a perfect view of the surrounding lake and the forest beyond. The castle, for
it could be nothing else, was built from gray stone that blended into the gray rocks leading to the water.
I stretched out my senses, searching for a hint of the mage’s moonlight aura in the sea of silver, but the castle’s magic
was too overwhelming for such a subtle distinction. I would have to search the normal way.
I no longer had my dagger or my sword, and someone had removed my shoes. I padded to the door on silent, stockinged feet.
A trail of footprints in the dust marked my passage. If the whole castle was this dirty, then it would be easy to find my
way back.
Assuming I could leave the room in the first place.
I hesitantly tried the handle. It turned under my hand, and the door swung inward on squeaky hinges. A long, empty hallway stretched in both directions. Some innate sense nudged me left, and I followed it.
I’d passed five doors by the time I found the stairs. I spiraled down the stone steps until the earth thrummed softly beneath
my feet—I’d reached the ground level at last.
I kept moving, following that instinctive sense of direction until I caught the faint scraping of claws against stone. I froze
in place as the wolf from the woods slid into view, silver eyes gleaming. At least, I assumed it was the same creature. It
seemed smaller here, only to my waist rather than my shoulder. Still, that was dangerous enough.
And the mage had taken my weapons.
The wolf tilted its head at me, then continued down the hallway. When I remained rooted in place, it looked back over its
shoulder, silver eyes piercing.
“You want me to follow you?” I asked, my voice whisper soft. It took another step, still watching me. I supposed that was
answer enough. “If you eat me after this, I’m going to be really upset.”
The wolf chuffed out the same sound from the woods, part chuckle, part growl, then turned to continue down the hallway.
It led me to the kitchen where a bowl of steaming porridge and a cup of water waited on a rough wooden table. My stomach growled
and the wolf chuckled again, then shrank even further, until it was the size of a large dog. It moved to the corner of the
room and flopped over on its side, glowing eyes trained on me.
When I didn’t move from the doorway, it looked pointedly at the food and then back to me. This was no ordinary wolf, but that
didn’t mean it was tame, either.
However, if I was going to die, I’d rather do it on a full stomach. I slipped into the room and sat on the end of the nearest
bench. I pulled the bowl and cup closer. The wolf watched until I took the first bite, then lowered its head to its enormous
paws and closed its eyes.
The wolf had arrived at the same time as the mage, and it didn’t seem inclined to eat me, so it was unlikely to be the creature that had attacked Hector. But I wasn’t so sure the vine beasts were responsible, either, because Hector had showed no signs of thorns or poisoning.
Still, I’d killed a monster as demanded. I could return to the village a hero, or at least alive, which was nearly as good.
Maybe this time they would appreciate it.
Or maybe it would just embolden them to make even more demands, especially since I didn’t have any proof of my success.
I sighed and idly stirred my food. At least the porridge was thick and warm and delicious, and if it was poison, then it was
the best poison I’d ever tasted. As I ate, I surreptitiously kept an eye on the wolf—who hadn’t moved—and examined the kitchen.
The room was cozy, but something about it bothered me. Cabinets, shelves, and a washbasin lined the far wall, and the heavy
door on my right presumably led outside since the wall also had a high, narrow window made from the same seamless merging
of stone and glass. The wall on my left was empty, just a blank expanse of gray stone.
I studied the area, and after a moment, I realized what was wrong: the room had no hearth. With no place to cook, where had
the porridge come from?
And who had left it here?
A castle of this size needed an army of staff to run it, but so far, it looked like it held only one magical wolf, one missing
mage, and me.
I finished the meal then stood, determined to find the mage. He was the only one who could answer my questions. Unless . . .
I turned to the wolf and tentatively asked, “Do you have a name?”
“His name is Grim,” a familiar masculine voice said from behind me, “and he’s nothing but trouble.”
I clenched my fists against the urge to shriek in alarm. “Must you do that?”
“You should be more aware of your surroundings.”
I turned to scowl at him and my breath caught.
The light from the window glinted off his raven-black hair, too long and with a hint of wave.
His brows were similarly black, but his eyes were a liquid, shining silver.
His pale skin was marred by a quartet of faded scars that started at his left temple and narrowly missed his eye before cleaving down through his cheek.
Delirious with poison and fear, I’d thought he was too pretty to be real. But here in the sober light of day, I realized I’d
only been partially right.
Even the scars couldn’t hide the fact that his face was striking, arresting in a way that made half of me want to freeze in
place while the other half ran in terror. He looked like a warlord or brigand.
He looked dangerous.
The corner of his mouth pulled up into a sneer, and he waved at his scarred cheek. “Shall I wait until you’re finished staring?”
I hadn’t been staring at his scars, but telling him he looked like a bandit wasn’t much better. “That would be kind, thank
you,” I agreed, my tone as sweet as syrup.
He blinked, taken aback. I continued my perusal while he was off-kilter. He was dressed in a dark tunic and sturdy trousers,
but the fabric was much finer than my own tattered, homespun cloth. Tall leather boots encased his lower legs, and I glanced
down at my thin, dirty socks with a grimace. I should’ve at least looked for my shoes before exploring.
The unnamed man slipped past me, then stalked around the table and sank onto the bench facing the hallway door. “There were
clothes in your room if you are unhappy with what you are wearing,” he growled without looking at me.
“And boots?” I asked hopefully.
He scowled, but his magic surged and a pair of boots appeared next to my feet. When I gasped in surprised delight, his scowl
deepened.
I touched the boots with quiet reverence, afraid they would disappear like smoke, but the soft, supple leather felt real enough under my fingers. I bent to pull them on, and they fit perfectly, hugging my calves and protecting my feet from the cool stone floor.
“Thank you,” I breathed. I’d never owned a pair of boots this nice—not even my heavy winter shoes came close. And the small
act of kindness put some of my worst fears to rest. Surely if he’d been planning to murder me, he wouldn’t have healed me
and given me new boots, right?
The mage grunted at me, and I realized he was staring at my empty bowl.
“Did I eat your breakfast?” I asked, then rushed to add, “If you tell me where it is, I’ll make more. Or I have food in my
pack you can have.” When he didn’t say anything, I murmured, “I’m sorry.”
Silvery eyes flashed at me from under a thunderous brow, and I instinctively backed up a step. Mages were unpredictable, deadly,
and famously quick-tempered. This one had put himself between me and a vicious beast, but that didn’t mean he was safe. His magic might currently be leashed, but I’d felt his power. He could squash me without even trying.
A strategic retreat was the only smart option. My questions could wait until he was in a better mood.
I turned to flee, but Grim was blocking the door, his hackles raised. I held out my hands in what I hoped was a soothing gesture.
“Hey, Grim, easy,” I whispered.
The wolf’s lips pulled away from teeth as long as my fingers, and his growl rolled through the room, sending shivers down
my spine. Between him and the mage, I wasn’t sure who was the bigger threat, but I knew who had the bigger teeth.
I kept my tone calm even as adrenaline flooded my system. “Who’s a good magical wolf, hmm? You are. And if you let me out,
I’ll share my food with you just as soon as I find my pack, I promise. I’m sure it’s way tastier than I am. Less messy, too.”
Behind me, the man snorted.
“If you want to eat someone, the grouchy man back there has a lot more mass. Probably more muscle, too. He’ll be nice and tender while I’m all tough and stringy.”
This time, the snort sounded an awful lot like a suppressed laugh, but I didn’t dare take my attention away from the snarling
beast in front of me to check on the one behind me.
“Grim, leave her alone,” the man said.
The wolf ignored him, and I felt like I was trapped in the middle of a fight I didn’t understand.
“Grim.” This time, the man’s voice was filled with command, and magic vibrated through the air.
The wolf growled again, then slunk aside, leaving just enough space for me to squeeze past him. I slipped from the room, but
one last glance over my shoulder proved that both wolf and man were watching me go.
And their eyes were eerily similar.