With a clap of her hands, Braith skips out the doorway.
It’s my turn to step forward.
The House Master frowns down at the notebook in his hand. “Guest rooms. North tower, fourth floor, rooms forty to forty-nine.” He looks past me and gestures toward the woman at my back. “Next.”
This is perfect. Thanks to my work in the human realm, I know how to clean a room. I’d be lost in the kitchens. I tug on my gloves and slip my hood over my hair as I head for the hallway.
To my dismay, Jeston waits at the bottom of the stairs.
When I step past him, he clears his throat. “Unless you want to make the trek twice, you’re going to need one of these.” He kicks one of the laundry baskets stacked full of linens.
They expect me to carry that thing all the way to the fourth floor? It looks heavier than I am.
I heave a basket into my arms and search the hallway for directions to the north tower.
Once again, Jeston clears his throat.
“What?” I snap.
The irritating man grins. “You forgot your mask, Goldie.”
Where did he get off, calling me that? “My name is Wynn.”
Jeston’s grin widens. “Not anymore.”
He can call me whatever he wants. It won’t faze me. Besides, I don’t have to answer to some silly nickname. I put down the basket to fasten my mask over my face. The mesh screen will take some getting used to, but I can see surprisingly well, all things considered.
Jeston lifts a basket as if it weighs nothing, propping it on his hip and waving toward the staircase. “Ladies first.”
I’ll give him a bloody lady. “No, you go ahead.”
“I insist.”
He can take his insistence and swallow it along with his infuriating comments. My irritation spurs me up the winding staircase, higher and higher, but by the second floor, that irritation is replaced by a different sort of burning in my chest. Thank heavens I’m only on the fourth floor. Imagine climbing all the way to the tenth. Talk about torture.
There is a numbered plaque above each door, which is handy because I can see myself losing count after a while. My over-large shoes leave me stumbling a few times on the way up, up, up.
“Were you this slow at your last job?” Jeston grumbles from behind.
“Are you always this annoying?” I shoot back. By the time we reach the fourth level, my heart feels like it’s about to burst, and my legs shake so badly, I’m afraid they’re going to give out completely. Why in the world do Scathians insist on living in towers, anyway? Tuath and human homes make far more sense.
Jeston’s grating chuckle reverberates off the stones.
If he wasn’t here, I would sink down on the ground and pass out. The man blows right past, not even breathing heavily as he speeds toward the upper floors.
The telltale brush of a ward tickles my hand when I reach for the doorknob at room forty. Stepping into the guest chambers feels like entering another world. One where the musty air from the caverns no longer exists. The room has been painted the same shade of crystal blue as the sky beyond the open balcony doors. Such luxury. Such opulence. I knew the castle would be stunning, but this is something else. And this is only a guest room. Imagine the family’s tower.
I wonder what Senan’s room looks like.
Maybe one day soon, I’ll find out.
Twenty
SENAN
Rehabilitation.The word they use for sad groups of people who’ve fallen into darkness and can’t seem to find their way out. I’m not saying I don’t need rehabilitation. It’s pretty fucking clear from the number of scars on my right hand that I needsomething. The problem is that it’s a useless waste of time. But when I told my brother that this morning, he’d threatened to ship Kyff off to boarding school if I didn’t attend a meeting.
So, here I am. Attending a meeting.