Chapter Eight Riela #2
to ask Garrick for another demonstration, assuming I could find the courage to face him. It pricked my pride to have to plead
for help, but struggling alone when there was a trained mage in the castle was just as foolish.
Even if I could already envision his scowl.
But as much as he scared me, he’d been kind, too, in his own way. He’d given me boots, and a cloak, and dinner. And even his
question about returning, which I had immediately taken in the worst possible way thanks to my history, had been asked seriously.
I briefly closed my eyes against the memory of my overreaction—and the pain that had followed. I was doing a poor job of proving
I wouldn’t be a liability. I needed to do something to balance the scales, and quickly, because if I truly couldn’t leave
the forest, then staying in a magical castle, even one haunted by a grumpy mage, was far better than most of the other options.
It took three times climbing past the same landing before I realized that I was at my floor—and that the castle refused to show me what was farther up the stairs.
I climbed another flight, just to see if I could reach the next floor now that I was paying attention, but I ended up exactly where I’d started.
Interesting. I wasn’t on the highest floor, so what was above me, and why couldn’t I see it?
I set aside the question for now and noted the blue tapestry on the wall at the end of my hallway. Maybe I could use my magic
to move through the building, once I figured out how it worked, because I very much doubted that Garrick let the castle direct
his movements.
The door to my room was open, and everything looked exactly the same as it had this morning. The bed was unmade and my dusty
footprints from earlier lingered on the floor. I opened the wardrobe and found my pack.
Relief weakened my knees, and I knelt next to the cabinet. I carefully tucked the extra apple into the bag with the travel
biscuits. Now I had at least a week to figure out how to make food.
I also found my dagger, sword, and shoes, as well as a wealth of clothes that were far finer than any I’d ever owned. There
were tunics and trousers and dresses, as well as the undergarments required for each, and matching shoes and slippers. Everything
in the wardrobe appeared to be my size.
Had Garrick created all of this? I touched a silky nightgown, and a blush heated my face. I could hardly imagine the brusque
mage creating women’s undergarments, but someone had created them.
Or at least had gathered them, because the odds that all of the clothes in this room would just coincidentally be my size
were incredibly slim.
Unless I wasn’t the first too tall, too thin woman to stay here.
I supposed it was possible, since anyone from the surrounding villages would’ve had the same hard winter that we’d had. Even
the royal tax collector had looked wan and hollow-eyed this spring, and before he’d always been soft and pampered. If the
capital was feeling squeezed, then things were worse than I’d thought.
I stood and brushed the dust from my knees. Before I could try on any of the clothes or soak the remaining blood and grime from my skin, I needed to clean the room. Garrick might be able to ignore the dust, but I could not.
“I don’t suppose you could clean the room for me?” I asked the castle.
I heard a faint thunk in the hall and stepped out to find a broom, mop, and dusting cloths in a pile next to my door. These were the same supplies
that had been in the library closet.
I chuckled quietly. “I guess that answers that.”
Still, I tried for ten minutes to clean the room with magic, but neither my magic nor the room was having any part of it.
It was one more question I would have to ask Garrick. He might find cleaning a waste of magic, but I didn’t. Of course, maybe
he hadn’t grown up cleaning other people’s messes for a living.
Or maybe he just liked filth.
It took me an hour of hard work to clean the bedroom and bathroom. When I was done, the dust had been banished from every
surface, and the floor sparkled. I left my grimy clothes in a pile by the door and darted into the bathroom naked.
The full-length mirror was a far cry from the small looking glass I’d bought after saving for a year. I’d never seen myself
so clearly, but I wasn’t sure I appreciated the upgrade.
I twisted in front of the reflective surface. The effects of last winter’s scarcity had yet to be erased. My hip bones were
too prominent, and my body looked gaunt from face to feet. I needed to figure out how to create food as soon as possible.
My left shoulder, chest, and back were painted with dried blood, and I wondered how bad the wound had been before the mage
had healed it. Just how close had I been to kissing Deir?
Too close by the look of things.
Leaning closer to the glass, I peered at my face.
Dirt smudged both cheeks, and I didn’t know if it was from my recent cleaning or if I’d been walking around with dirt on my face all day.
My irises were deep brown with flecks of green, like tiny sprouts growing in deep, rich soil, and they were my favorite feature.
I’d been pretty enough when I was younger, but now I just looked tired and worn.
I turned away from the mirror and unbraided my hair. The dark brown strands fell to the middle of my back in loose waves that
had been enhanced by the braids.
A bath was exactly what I needed, and hot water from a pipe was magic that I was all too happy to enjoy. It took a bit of
tinkering to get the temperature right, but sinking into the warm water was worth the effort.
I dunked my head under the surface and rubbed at my scalp. When I came up for air, there was a soft, fragrant bar of soap
and a washcloth waiting on the edge of the tub.
I murmured my thanks to the castle, then scrubbed my skin until it glowed. Even my arms, tanned by countless days under the
sun, turned pink from the combination of hot water and scouring.
Once I was clean, I let the warm water soothe away the aches and frustrations of the day. I’d infuriated Garrick more than
once, and I still couldn’t make food, but I was warm and sheltered and safe. It was more than I’d expected, and several days’
worth of dread and worry finally began to unravel.
I still had more questions than answers, but for now, I had enough.