“Useless?” Sath Riveker scoffed, shook his head, and leaned back. “We lose, what, ten or so hours of good working sunshine doing all that needs doing around this old house…”
“And more at night,” Mavek added. Cassia recognized an often-repeated complaint when she heard it; this was something they had vocalized before.
“...and no offense, Miss Cassia,” Sathuel added, “but ten hours of work from men born and bred to cattle ranching, with bonded dragons, is probably worth a full week’s labor from someone inexperienced like you.”
“None taken,” Cassia was quick to tell him. “I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve even been near a cow.”
“That’s that, then,” Gramma announced, fixing each of the men with a steely gaze. “But mind, just because Miss Cassia makes more sense in the kitchen, she isnot your maid. You’re all still tidying up your own rooms and changing your own bedsheets. You’ll still help around the house in the evenings. Is that understood?”
“But is she only cooking, or…?” Mavek wanted to know.
“She’ll do whatever’s needed during working hours,” Prisca decided with a nod to Cassia. “But we share the burdens together, like this family always has. She’s just pulling her weight in the house insteads of the fields.”
“So if any of you have favorite meals or things you hate,” Cassia started to suggest. “Just let me know, and…” her sentence was drowned in an immediate outpour of food suggestions around the table, mostly Sath and Mavek with Sorven chiming in every fifth or sixth suggestion, Aevrin muttering at them all to stop being rude and talk one at a time. Prisca took a swig of the ale she’d confiscated from Mavek.
And so, a week passed with surprising speed, the kitchen falling into order and Cassia finding only one more mock-mouse to throw outside.
She fell easily into the Riveker’s rhythms. But then, Cassia had a lot of experience settling into new places and learning thepace of families she barely knew. The Rivekers were a cheerful bunch for the most part. She felt more welcome there than she had in any of the homes she’d stayed before. Not, from her experience, that feeling welcome made much of a difference in the long run.
Her bruises were all yellow, still there but less visible than the dark purple and black had been against her pale skin. Her head didn't hurt or feel foggy. She'd been handed ¤22 in coins and had added it to the pouch from Evelya which she kept hidden beneath Ashelle's mattress. She knew it was safe in the Riveker's house, but some habits just died hard. She had a set of good clothes, a room to herself, and, best of all, the satisfaction of knowing she was making their lives easier.
Now she stood at the kitchen sink, scrubbing the dishes from that morning’s meal. The men had all left a bit ago. Cassia stared out the deep-set window over the sink periodically as she worked. The view of the mountains hadn’t stopped taking her breath away yet. She didn’t think it ever would. The Zhavekian landscape wasn’t terribly peaceful, but that didn’t stop it from being beautiful.
Even as good as things were just now, she couldn’t forget all the trouble with Rylan. Her brother’s face haunted her sleep. The memory of Rylan’s last, angry words to her slunk around the back of her mind, surfacing at the oddest moments to twist her stomach.
She’d sworn she would take care of him. To herself, to him, and to the justicar who’d placed her younger brother in her care when Cassia was old enough to petition for it. But she’d failed, and he hated her. The shame of it made her feel sick.
“Cassia, you doing alright in there?” Gramma Prisca asked.
“Hm?” Cassia turned and forced herself to smile. Gramma stood in the doorway in leather trousers and a lightweight coat,wood buttons done up. A purse hung over her shoulder. The old woman stared at her hard, like she could see Cassia’s thoughts. “Sure I am,” Cassia promised.
“I’m going out to see a friend. You can come, if you want to get out of the house.”
“That’s alright. Thank you.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be back early afternoon.”
“Have fun.”
Gramma waved, turned, and left. Out the window, Cassia could see the woman climb slowly onto the back of her old green dragon. The duck flared her wings slightly but sauntered slowly towards town on all fours instead of launching upwards.
She could just picture Rylan bleeding out on the side of some dusty road. What if he was already dead? She doubted most outlaws lived long. Her hand tightened on the scrubber and she furiously jabbed at the crusty, burnt bits stuck to the baking dish she was washing.
Cassia forced herself to finish washing the last two plates in the sink and set them on a dish towel to dry.
She slipped into the study and closed the door slowly behind her, tiptoeing even though the house was empty. For a moment Cassia paused with her forehead against the door and her palm on the knob, feeling dirty for sneaking around in the home of folks who’d treated her so well.
But she couldn’t explain about Rylan. And the need to know if her brother was even still alive was overpowering. She turned and sank into the cushioned wooden chair. Drawing a deep breath, Cassia reached a trembling hand towards the spellstone.
The moment her fingers grazed it her palm locked tight against the smooth surface. Strange, electric power wound up her arm like crawling vines, until her head buzzed with a thousand whispers asking what she wanted.
“It’s a secret,” she whispered, her eyes falling shut as the star-studded dark filled her head. “I need to see my brother. I don’t want anyone to know.”
The image filled her mind slowly.
Rylan sat on a low stone wall, his long legs bent sharply, packing a wooden pipe with a hand that shook. The look on his face was enough to pickle Cassia’s heart. Tear tracks had cut through grime on a young face that frowned so deeply she feared the furrows would be permanently etched there. The landscape around him wasn’t so different from the rest of Zhavek: rocky, scruffy ground; a few hardy weeds that didn’t burn easily alongside green patches of quick-growing clovers and thistles.
“Hey, Smooth. Look alive,” a voice called.
