“You’ve been gone longer than we thought you would be. Did you run into trouble?” Ric asked, chucking his knives back in the case.
“I’ve gathered some valuable information.” Daniel’s eyes darted to me and back. “About you-know-what. I may have run into a little trouble retrieving it.”
“I’ll find Alistair.” Ric clapped him on the shoulder and picked up the weapons case before jogging off toward the house.
Ethan exchanged looks with Daniel and put his hand on my back, steering me toward the house. “What kind of information?” I whispered.
“The kind that doesn’t involve nosey houseguests,” he whispered back. I opened my mouth to retaliate but he beat me to it. “Explore the place a bit. Ignoring the other day’s events, there isn’t too much you can do around here to get into trouble…except falling from the bridge.” He snickered, but I heard the underlying seriousness of his tone. His fingers brushed lightly over the exposed skin below my neck as he turned back, leaving my nerves tingling. I frowned, rubbed the goose-bumps away, and decided where my adventures should take me.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BY THE TIME I slipped into the bathing chamber it couldn’t have been long past noon, yet the clouds that washed across the sun made it seem far later. The hot water made my skin sting on contact, but my body quickly adjusted to the temperature and I sighed, letting the steaming liquid swallow me up. The seconds rolled past and a cascade of bubbles left my lips and rose to the surface. I closed my eyes and allowed myself a few more moments of weightlessness before breaking the surface. My poor, tattered hair was in knots and clumps as I tried to work my fingers through it. I’d spent so much of my life pretending I wasn’t a girl that sometimes I forgot the basics – like brushing my bloody hair each day. It was easier to pull it up and hide it under a hat.
Begrudgingly I pulled myself out of the cooling bath and applied the last of Willow’s balms to my injuries. I soaked until my fingers and toes were crinkled and swollen, and a light drizzle started to fall outside, making the journey back to the room far less appealing. For one final glance I wiped away the condensation that fogged the mirror and stared at myself. Lavender had certainly been right about her mother being talented. My bruises had all but disappeared entirely. The hand on my neck was just about visible, and the pain from my shoulder had lessened a great deal. I pulled my arm up and around, flinching as one of the positions was still a bit too much for me. It was almost perfect. When I pulled the dress back on and tightened its cord, the bodice no longer pressed unbearably against my ribs. What a glorious thing it was to be able to breathe without wincing.
THE RAIN WORSENED as the day went on and I was going out of my mind with nothing to do. Lavender promised to show me her medicines but she wasn’t free until the evening. I opened the windows of the bedroom and leant out, watching the world dance around me from the droplets’ disturbances. Above me the treetops swayed in the endless breeze and a handful of slight birds sped past. I watched them dart through closely clustered branches and land somewhere just beyond the clumsily-supported section behind me. My nails tapped rhythmically on the sill.
Of all the times to search for a secret entrance now seemed a good a time as any.
It didn’t take long to feel a small puff of cold air on my toes as I stared at my own reflection in the beautifully carved mirror. I never liked to look too long at myself so it made sense that I’d miss it. A secret entrance. I actually felt a bit giddy as I wrapped my fingers around one side of the mirror and pulled it gently back. After a moment of wobbling uncertainty it swung open on soundless hinges, revealing a small, dark room. It smelled earthy and damp, and I retrieved a box of matches from the dresser and struck one. The light exposed an old door on the far side. Its hinges and handle were forged of black metal and the wood was heavy and stiff against my efforts. Eventually with one final wrench it opened with a battered, old whine and led me to a stone corridor. A few of the floor pieces were missing, but only those wide enough to slip a leg through, not a body – as if that was any consolation to me. I stayed in the middle, scared that a shift of balance on either side would cause the whole thing to collapse, and slowly made my way to the other end of the corridor. The final door opened with a light push and I entered the odd section to the sight of something glorious.
Books. Marvellous books. Shelves upon shelves of the things. Had I not been so utterly afraid that the floor would collapse beneath me, I would have danced. When my courage plucked up a little more I tiptoed to the back, running my hand along the dusty shelves, and climbed another set of stairs that led to a platform. It wasn’t particularly large, about the size of the bed I slept in, but the view was magnificent. The window seat stretched across the length of the glass as I sat down in it and stared out above a sea of greenery. There were rivers that ran through the dells and water that fell from rapids fed by the surrounding hills. In the distance I swore I saw mountains and the promise of a temple crown. Ric had mentioned something about a town. Eventually tearing myself away from the view, I moved on to the bursting bookshelves.
Time was lost as I walked between the shelves and picked up book after book. There was something on every subject I could think of and more; some I’d never even thought they’d write about. It was when I shifted a large pile of them on a lonely desk that I saw something familiar. Its cover was bound in dark leather and secured with studs, whilst the faultless silver script shone out from under the layers of grime. I blew the worst of the dust away and coughed as it found its way into my nose and throat.
“Of the Earth, Sky and Water,” I read out loud, “an encyclopaedia of all things living.” I ran my fingers along the front page.
I’d seen a book like it before in Wetherdon’s book shop. Flicking through page after page I could remember feeling the starchy residue the paper left on my fingers. I could see the rough wood of the shop floor clearly in my head and feel it grate against my elbows as I’d stretched out, reading about what plants were safe to forage and what animals to hunt. The book-keeper hadn’t let me back in after he’d almost tripped over me; not dressed as ‘Ava’ anyway. Roan had gifted me a copy of it for my fourteenth birthday. It was a tattered, old thing but I’d loved it.
A large bang sounded out and I was on my feet in a second, waiting for the building to fall. It took a few moments more to realise the sound was actually just a fallen book; one I’d knocked off the other side of the desk as I’d pulled out the chair. I cussed and picked it up, brushing it off with a careful touch. The hefty book was bound in leather so old I couldn’t tell what animal it was from, and the embellished title had lost its colour. When I angled it to the light, however, I could just about read it.