After another moment, Bael spoke again, more softly this time. “What do you remember of your youth?”
She shook her head. “Only brief flickers, like an old film strip. Fields with aster and blue wildflowers. I usually try to paint them in the places where I’ve lived, to remind me of... wherever I’m from. Must be some rural part of England, because there aren’t exactly many fields of wildflowers in London. But the flowers feel like home.”
“I saw them in your room. In New York, after you roused me from a very long sleep in your attic.”
What she didn’t add was that there was another side to her. The flowers were home, but sometimes she longed for the night sky, to feel the cold wind over her skin and to escape into the darkness. To hide from the world.
“Is that all you remember?” he asked softly.
“A few more things. Burning walls. Sometimes I remember a woman who could use a sword, like me. I’m guessing that was my mum.”
“A warrior woman.”
“Just like me.”
“Warrior women are a rarity in the Shadow Realm. Perhaps that’s why Nyxobas is so interested in you.”
“Maybe. Though I’m not doing much fighting here.”
“It seems you have no family now.”
“Nope. None that I know of.”
He glanced at her. “Sleep. I will watch over you.”
Her eyes began to drift closed, and as she fell asleep, she dreamt of soft grasses tickling her ankles, and air thick with humidity.
Chapter 15
The clinking of glasses jolted Ursula awake.
In the pale starlight, Cera stood over her. “It’s time to get up. I’ve brought you breakfast.”
Ursula rubbed her eyes, trying to bring the room into focus. A familiar, delicious scent wafted through the air.
“Is that...coffee?”
Cera flashed her a toothy smile. “I thought you might like some. The lord said you had a difficult night.”
“You’re the best.” She sat up, stretching her arms above her head. She glanced around the room. Surprise flickered through her. She no longer lay on the sofa in the living room. Someone had brought her up to the bedroom while she’d slept and tucked her under the violet duvet.
“How did I get here?”
Cera dropped a flannel robe next to her on the bed. “How should I know?”
“Did Bael carry me up here? I don’t remember it.”
“The lord is very strong and swift. I’m sure he could have carried you while you slept.” She frowned. “Are you sleeping in one of your finest gowns?”
“Bael chose it.”
Smirking, Cera arched an eyebrow. “Did he, now?”
“Just—I needed something to wear. I was in my—never mind.” Ursula pushed off her blanket and grabbed a cup of steaming, black coffee. She took a sip of the hot brew, letting it energize her. Beside the carafe of coffee lay a basket of warm bread and butter. Her mouth watered, and she bit into a fresh roll.
“Fill your belly,” said Cera. “Then come downstairs when you’re dressed in something more appropriate.”
Ursula ate her way through several rolls and another cup of coffee, taking care not to get crumbs all over the bed. When she’d had her fill, she pulled off her gown and selected a simpler dress—gray cotton with a deep V neck.
As she made her way downstairs, she combed her fingers through her hair to tidy it.
In the middle of the living room, she found two oneiroi men standing next to Cera. Just outside the window, a third rode on the back of a lunar bat.
Ursula’s muscles tensed. “What’s going on?”
“It’s only Sotz,” said Cera. “He’s helping with the window replacement.”
Ursula nodded, staring as Sotz clutched a rope in his feet. As she moved closer to the window, she saw that a large plate of glass dangled at the other end of the rope.
At the direction of the oneiroi workmen, Sotz flew higher, lifting the glass. With a volley of shouts and frantic gestures, the men were able to maneuver the pane into the room. Ursula watched as the workmen carefully fitted the window into place, Sotz hovering just outside. The rider on Sotz’s back slowly adjusted his position in a fascinating display of control.
“Ursula.” Cera touched her arm. “I brought you a present.”
Ursula smiled. “You did? What for?”
“Not my idea. The lord told me to give it to you. He thought it might keep you busy.”
“Right. So I won’t stab anyone else, presumably.”
“That would be for the best.” Cera scurried off toward the hall. When she returned, she carried a shiny black bag.
Ursula’s eyebrows rose. More clothes?
“The lord said you liked to paint.”
A smile curled her lips. “The lord is right.”
Cera reached into the bag, pulling out brushes and tubes of paint. Lastly, she pulled out a small canvas stretched over a wooden frame. “He said if you want a larger canvas, you should let him know.”
“This is such a lovely present.”