I stepped inside, seeing the candle sconces already lit on the wall, their wax dripping, one making a little puddle on the stone floor, which was partially covered in a thin rug to keep the chill away.
There were two small beds on either side of the room, a large window along the wall between them, moonlight streamingthrough it. A table sat next to the door, and I saw a tray there, with a carafe of water and dried meats, nuts with wrinkled flesh, and a thick crust of bread.
“I prepared the room,” Syris said, her cheeks pinkening a bit. “I hope you’ll be comfortable.”
“You’re too kind,” I told her softly.
“It’s all yours,” she explained, casting her eyes to the empty, unmade bed. “It’s offseason, so there are only a few of us working in the hatchery right now. I’m right next door if you need anything. Oh, and you’ll find the washroom at the very end of the hallway. We all share it.”
I nodded my head.
“Get some rest,” she told me as I set down my travel sack against the table leg. “I’ll come get you in the morning so you can meet Tarkosh.”
“Tarkosh?”
“She oversees the hatchery,” Syris explained. “We all apprentice beneath her.”
Just like home, then, I thought, thinking of my ownmrikro.
“Kakkira vor, Syris,” I said. When her brow furrowed, I amended sheepishly, “Thank you.”
“Oh,” she said, looking flustered. “That’s what Dakkari sounds like. I’ve always wondered.”
My half-hearted chuckle echoed as she gave me another smile and bid me good night, taking her leave. She closed the door behind her, leaving me on my own.
Finally,I thought, eyeing the bed. Though it was raised from the earth, on wooden legs, I wouldn’t question it. In fact, I thought of nothing else—not the food, not changing out of my dirtied clothes—as I headed straight for it.
I might’ve already been asleep by the time my body met the thin mattress.
“She can be…harsh at times,” Syris told me as she led me through the hatchery hallway, streams of sunlight pouring in from the windows. “But you will find no one with more knowledge of Elthikan hatchlings in all of Karak.”
She said that last bit proudly, though her voice was nearly a whisper, as if she was worried Tarkosh would overhear.
“I’m glad,” I said truthfully, squaring my shoulders. “I want to learn from the best. That’s why I’m here.”
A small lie, perhaps, but also a partial truth. Why wouldn’t I take advantage of being here? Last night had sparked determination and wonderment in me, which had only amplified after a good night’s sleep.
“I trust you slept well?” Syris asked me. “Were you comfortable? I know it can get cold in the rooms at night?—”
“It was perfect,” I told her in assurance. “I don’t think I moved once. And that washing tub this morning was probably the best thing I’d ever experienced after flying for who knows how long.”
Her slight giggle was cut short when someone pulled open a door to our right suddenly. Another bedroom, I saw. A male stepped through, bleary-eyed, swiftly tying the laces of his trousers. Behind him, I caught a flash of naked legs, still in bed.
He looked surprised to see us standing there. He only glanced at me momentarily, his eyes narrowing before they cut to Syris. “Is Tarkosh up?”
“For hours,” she replied, her tone a little stiff. “You know the rules. No outside visitors when we have eggs in the?—”
He tugged the door firmly closed behind himself and snorted. “Like anyone follows those rules.”
“You’re the only one who breaks them,” Syris sniffed.
“Then who’sthis?” he growled, jerking his head at me.
He was a handsome male, I noticed, with dark skin that made his green irises appear darker, and a commanding presence.
“This is Amaia,” Syris answered, her tone defensive, almost snappish. I held back a smile. “Our new apprentice. From Dakkar.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I said.
