Chapter Eight #2
The dagger on the floor glittered temptingly at Penn, but the bag was closer. He crept toward it, keeping his steps light and praying that the inn’s floorboards wouldn’t give him away. Inside he found various clothes and three different bottles.
Penn opened the first bottle and sniffed it, his nose scrunching immediately at the familiar bitterness of Liquid Sleep. The second and third were unfamiliar to him, one sweet, the other a mix of herbal and musk.
Since he was already familiar with Liquid Sleep, it would be the most useful to him. Would Niall notice a bottle missing? With how cautious Niall had been at dinner, he probably wouldn’t fall for something as simple as his own potion being used against him.
Penn took all three bottles to the window. Niall’s snoring had reached such a volume, half of the inn must have heard him. It covered any minor noises Penn made.
As quietly as he could, he opened the window a few inches, letting in the chill rain.
He dipped his hand into the downpour, allowing it to coat his skin like he was greeting an old friend.
Without any colorful lightning flashing across the sky, he couldn’t tell if the storm was Adelaide’s creation or natural weather.
He hoped she’d taken his advice to leave him behind, find somewhere safe for herself and her daughter, warn Archer that Alistair was awake.
But thinking that she’d sent him this storm made Penn feel less alone.
The collar around Penn’s throat seemed to tighten, as if the mage could sense his unfaithful thoughts. He needed to finish his task quickly.
Penn uncapped the bottles one by one and dumped their contents over the windowsill. He waited for a sizzle or scorch marks, some hint at their danger. Nothing. He knew little about magic, and less about potions, but he’d expected something to happen.
He refilled them with rainwater then closed the window.
Sniffing them a second time proved that whatever potions they’d held had a lingering scent.
It was perhaps a little weaker than before but not immediately obvious that he’d switched the contents.
He put them back in Niall’s bag, hoping his snooping would go unnoticed.
Then he approached the bathtub. The water had a slick sheen of soap along the surface, obscuring much of the body underneath.
It was a small tub, barely big enough to fit a full-grown man without him spilling over the edges.
Drowning Niall would be difficult in the shallow waters and would draw too much attention from the nearby rooms.
Penn’s hand still itched with the temptation. If I’m quick … He stepped forward.
Niall’s snoring sputtered to a stop and he jumped up, looking around the room frantically, splashing water onto the floor. His wet hair clumped in front of his eyes, obscuring his vision.
By the time he’d pushed it out of the way, Penn was back in his chair, sipping from his water glass. “Are you nearly done?” he drawled, giving the mage a bored look.
Niall’s face burned red, and he thrust himself out of the bath. “Gone cold anyway,” he said, his teeth chattering to prove his point. Narrowing his eyes at Penn, he wrapped a towel around himself like a shy maiden, then shuffled around while he dried off.
Once he finished, he grabbed his clothes from the bag, half-dumping the contents onto the bed. His withered hand reached out and covered one of the exposed bottles, hiding it in his palm. He dressed quickly, the bottle disappearing into a pocket, and settled on the bed. “Make it quick.”
Penn stood and stripped off his clothes. He spread them out on the chair to give them a better chance to dry, not sure what was in the bag Valistair had given him. He’d been so focused on searching Niall’s, he’d forgotten to check his own.
The bath water was indeed cold. Penn scrubbed his body and his hair quickly, trying not to linger on the last bath he’d taken.
Warm water, silky skin covered in scars …
He squeezed his eyes shut and ducked his head under the cold water and held himself there until he’d successfully frozen out the thoughts.
When he surfaced again, he found Niall by the side of the bathtub, hand outreached.
Niall snatched his hand back and muttered something unintelligible as he shuffled back to the bed.
Probably had the same idea as me, Penn guessed. He got out of the tub, moving slowly, unconcerned with exposing himself. After drying himself off, he strode naked to the bed and emptied the contents of the bag Valistair had given him.
Penn’s own pack had burned in the same fire that destroyed Valerian’s satchel, so all the items were unfamiliar to him. No weapons, obviously, and all Bellacostan clothes. Fine silks, jackets, cravats—nothing practical for travel. Whose wardrobe did he raid?
Bern’s face flashed in Penn’s mind again, eyes clouded in death and throat slit open. Penn shuddered and shoved the clothes back into the bag, preferring to put his own damp clothes back on.
Once Penn dressed, Niall called for the workers to clear the tub and dinner scraps out of the room.
“Are we sharing the bed?” Penn asked.
“Obviously not,” Niall replied, sniffing in disdain.
“You will sleep in the chair. In fact …” he trailed off as he searched around in his pack.
He didn’t seem to find what he was looking for, so he moved on to the pile of wet clothes he’d abandoned in the middle of the floor.
“Sit down, put your hands behind your back.”
Penn obeyed, wondering idly: how many times have I been tied up in the past week?
Niall had improved his knot work, tying the cravat tight enough to keep Penn busy for a few hours without threatening his circulation.
The mage returned to the warm bed, wrapped the blankets around himself in a tight bundle, and rested his head on both pillows.
“You won’t even spare a blanket?” Penn asked, not that he’d expected it.
“Be happy I’m not drugging you into oblivion,” Niall grunted.
Penn stopped taunting him and did his best to get comfortable in the chair. He’d slept in worse conditions. He leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes.
In such an uncomfortable position, it took him a long time to fall asleep. Once he did, his dreams were full of someone knocking endlessly at a locked door, trying to get in.