I jerked away, dropping the pack. Garrick caught it easily.
“Which room?” My voice came out low and rough, but I could do nothing.
Garrick spared me that intense gaze as he dropped the key into my hand. “Top floor.”
“Which room?” I repeated.
“There’s only one.”
I might be a mess, but Garrick was completely nonplussed. As usual. He turned away and left the warmth of the tavern for the billowing storm without a farewell.
“You could go with him.”
For a second, I did not realize it was Isanara that had spoken, not the traitorous voice of my own subconscious.
“So could you.”And then I might actually have a few minutes alone.
She blinked up at me, her golden-green eyes wide. Expressive. Staring up at me like I’d lost my mind.“Someone must stay and protect you.”
“Right. Because I am so fucking incompetent that even a baby dragon is more trustworthy than me.”
“I am not a baby,”she hissed. But she did not correct my other assertion.
“Let’s go. Maybe he’ll be gone long enough I can at least have a bath. Possibly even a warm one. Do dragons bathe?”
She huffed in disgruntled approbation.“I feed on the very power of the earth. I am not bound by such mundane mortal tasks. Do you truly know so little about dragons?”
I sighed as we reached the stairs. I did not dare correct her about my mortality.“I guess so.”
CHAPTER 49
The bath was cold,but at least the room was warm. I washed myself, then my clothing. After weeks of traveling between the gates and little more than frigid handcloth baths with melted snow, it felt absolutely decadent to be naked. Even in the temples, there wasn’t time for much more than the essentials. A quick rinse of body and undergarments, and then out through another gate.
I told myself it was practical to count the hours that Garrick was away.
It indicated how much coal he was collecting for Isanara.
It allowed me to estimate if enough time remained for my clothing to dry or if I ought to use a spell to draw out the water.
It made me start to worry.
The thick flakes that had shepherded us into the tavern turned to hailstones as I stepped out of my bath. The wind picked up, hurling the balls of ice against the window as I finished rubbing the stains out of my leather vest.
“His fae blood will insulate him from the cold,”Isanara said, barely lifting her head from where she lounged before the hearth, while I crossed to the window for the fifth time in as many minutes.
“And how do you know so much about the fae?”I shot back, prying open one of the shutters. I’d closed them earlier, afraid the driving ice would shatter the glass. But now I opened them again, standing on tiptoe to peer out. All I could see was a miasma of dark night and swirling white snow.
The cacophony of sound—howling wind, ice crashing against glass—woke my power.
I slammed the shutters closed.
I yanked my linen shift over my head, unable to appreciate the hint of smokiness that had seeped into the fibers as it dried before the fire. The knot in my stomach was too intense.
My wool overdress was still damp to the touch.
“From every corner, nook, and space, draw forth the water, leave no trace.”
The water between the fibers evaporated instantly, leaving the garment dry, but the air around me humid. I ignored the sheen of sweat forming on my skin as I searched for the armholes.
