I could only nod, my emotions moving far too slowly back behind their fortification.
“Where are we anyway?” My voice broke uncomfortably at the attempted subject change. I obviously couldn’t handle thinking much about my mother just yet.
“This is one of our safe houses; it’s an old motel that Ilyan bought and remodeled in 1968, hence the décor. We call it ‘The Motel’ strangely enough. Most everyone has updated their rooms, but this one and a few others have kind of been left alone.”
Wyn helped me to swing my legs over the side of the bed, her hands assisting me to stand. My spine creaked, and I inhaled sharply as pressure was placed on it. Although the sensation was uncomfortable, it didn’t hurt. It felt like I had never stood on my legs before.
“Come on,” Wyn coaxed. “I want to show you something.”
Even though stiffness had replaced the pain, I still needed help to walk; my legs needed to be reminded how to do it. Wyn helped me, step by step, as we moved slowly forward, stopping after a few steps when Wyn turned me to face the window.
The window opened to a beautiful courtyard that was surrounded on all sides by other rooms. It was full of flowers and vines that covered stone paths and beautiful wrought-iron patio furniture. And in the middle of it all, stood a giant tree. I had never seen one so large. It wasn’t a pine tree like the massive redwoods; it almost looked like an oak. Its broad leaves stretched up and out, covering the courtyard in a relaxing canopy of quivering leaves.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I know. The view in Prague is just as nice, too. You will see it when we get there.”
“Get there?” I couldn’t help the panicked edge that crept into my voice. I couldn’t go anywhere without Ryland.
“Prague is the city where all magic originates; it’s where we live. I am sure we will go home after we get Ryland out.” She smiled sadly as she answered my unasked question. I couldn’t help but feel the waves of uncertainty she was broadcasting, like she didn’t think rescuing him was a possibility.
“When do we go get him?” I could feel the jittery feeling coming back.
“That’s what Ilyan is in council right now to decide, Jos.” She moved some of my hair behind my ear, and I fought the urge to yell at her, not because she had touched me, but because I felt the need to leave to save Ryland right then. It bothered me that this need to rescue him had come on so strong, so fast.
“Can we go for a walk?” I asked the first thing that had come to my mind, hopeful that my anxiety would dissipate with the movement.
“Ummm, yeah. You are not allowed in council, and everyone else will be there. So, we can both go sit in the courtyard and wait for Council to be released, or we can go get some food in my room.”
It didn’t take much thought to decide which I wanted. I would probably never be in the mood to meet new people. The thought gave me an overwhelming urge to pull the hood of the sweater up over me and hide, but I fought it.
“Food sounds great.”
Thankfully, the hall outside the room did not stink so much of the sixties. It had been covered in wood paneling, but painted a nice cream color and carpeted in a plush Berber that helped it to look much more modern.
As we reached the end of the cream-colored hallway, I noticed that only this hallway was covered in the lightly colored paint and carpeting. The new hall we approached was a deep green and had hardwood floors. Right at the transition, Wyn stopped and turned to a man I hadn’t noticed. He stood tall and still, right at the entrance to the hall, his focus down the hall ahead of us. At Wyn’s approach, he turned to her, but said nothing.
“Tell his lordship we have gone to my chamber. The Chosen Child has requested a meal and he is welcome to join us when Council concludes.”
The man clicked his heels together, and Wyn bowed before turning and guiding me down the green hallway in the opposite direction. I looked back at the man to see him still against the door frame.
“What was all that about?”
“I hate talking like that,” Wyn said. “I am so much younger than everyone else, and they all get stuck up on rules, regulations and traditions. I’m lucky I have you; now we can be the irritating rule breakers together.” I looked at her sharply; she hadn’t answered my question. She sensed my gaze boring into her and stoically kept her vision forward.
“Wyn,” I pleaded.
“Okay, they get stuck up on tradition, right? You have to address Ilyan in a certain way, bow to Ovailia in a certain way. You have to use the right verbiage in order to be properly understood,” she sighed.
“Address Ilyan in a certain way,” I repeated in a whisper. My Lord. His Lordship. “So, Ilyan is like your ruler.”
“King,” Wyn corrected. “King of four hundred people, yes, but still king.”