Ridge's room is a generous term for what's essentially a closet with a cot. The blanket is thin enough to read through. There's mold in the corner. Actual, black mold just... there.
"Absolutely not." I prop Ridge against the wall and start stripping the cot. "Where are the clean blankets?"
"The what?"
"Clean. Blankets." I speak slowly, like maybe they just don't know the words. "Sheets? Anything that doesn't look diseased?"
The two guild members exchange glances. "There's... storage. Maybe."
"Show me."
Storage turns out to be a room full of weapons, gold, and what might charitably be called linens if you squint. I find two blankets that don't smell like death and what could pass for clean sheets after a good shake.
"Help me get him into bed," I order. They do, probably because I'm using my stern voice. The one that makes even Mrs. Harwicke pay eventually.
Ridge is burning through his shirt. I get the medicine into him—two drops, no more—and pile both blankets on top. He's shivering anyway.
"Where's your kitchen?"
More confused looks.
"Kitchen. Where you cook food. Make tea. Have soup."
"There's a room. With a fireplace. Sometimes people heat things."
"Show me this 'room.'"
It's not a kitchen. It's a crime scene that happens to have a hearth. Empty shelves. A pot that might have been used to boil water sometime during the last king's reign. No food. No supplies. Nothing but dust and old smoke smell.
"How do you eat?" I'm genuinely baffled. "What do you eat?"
"Tavern food. Sometimes. When there's time."
"When there's—" I stop. Breathe. Count to five. "Right. You." I point at the taller one. He actually backs up a step. "What's your name?"
"Um. Finn?"
"Finn. Good. Finn, do you know where food comes from?"
"...shops?"
"Excellent start. Do you have money?"
He nods cautiously.
"Wonderful. You're going shopping." I start making a list on a scrap of paper from my pocket. "Vegetables—carrots, onions, celery. Chicken, a whole one if you can find it. Garlic. Parsley. Salt. Bread. Butter. Can you read?"
"Yes?"
"Don't sound so uncertain. Either you can or you can't." I shove the list at him. "Go. Now. Take..." I look at the other one. "What's your name?"
"Davis."
"Take Davis. He can help carry things."
They stand there.
"Is there a problem?"
