“I should go,” Elizabeth said hastily, offering a polite nod before turning away.
She had gained an entertaining story for Charlotte, but she was unnerved by the witch’s cautions. The back of her neck prickled as she felt the witch staring at her as she made her way across the square.
Hurrying towards the entrance to the bookstore, she came face to face with Maud.
Maud’s sharp brown gaze took her in. “We have been waiting for you. Where did you run off to?”
Elizabeth smiled weakly and shrugged. “I got lost.”
To her relief, Maud did not press the issue and ushered her to follow them back to the carriage.
Rain pattered against the window and roof as they rode home. Elizabeth watched the fat drops of water slide down the window, wondering, not for the first time, why fortune tellers and healing women were persecuted in Rhodea.
They were strange, yes. But evil?
When Elizabeth thought of evil, she thought of war, destruction, and death. She did not think of older women speaking in riddles and guessing at fortunes.
***
Back in the library, Elizabeth tried to lose herself in reading, but anxiety gnawed at her. Had Maud bought her lies? And would Fiza report back to Caspian that a bag of gold was resting in one of her trunks at the bottom of her closet?
She was just about to give up on reading for the night when she noticed something strange.
There was a hulking figure standing a few aisles away, visible between the gaps in the shelves. Illuminated by dim torchlight, she made out monstrous dark wings trailing across the floor and curling horns on its head.
A monster.
She clutched her book to her chest and sank into the chair, trying to make herself as small as possible. She looked away, keeping her breathing as shallow as possible, lest she draw its attention.
Unable to keep from peeking, she glanced back and saw the monster trudge through the library, making for the doors. As it came into view, she was struck by the sheer size of its dark blue hands, twice the size of a normal man’s and appearing much too large for its frame. Shadows slithered around the monster, cloaking its legs and torso in darkness. The sight made goosebumps pebble her skin.
The monster’s steps thudded through the library, moving away from her.
After the monster left, she waited a minute to ensure she was alone, then quickly made for the library doors.
Spotting a dark feather on the ground, she picked it up. She tucked the feather and book under her arm, and hurried to her chambers.
Once in the safety of her rooms, Fiza drew a hot bath as Elizabeth examined the feather.
It was a curious thing; it was bigger than any feather she had ever seen. The vanes of the feather were so dark that they appeared to absorb light entirely and were as soft as velvet under her fingertip.
She set the feather down on her vanity and went to the bathing chamber when Fiza called for her. Shrugging out of her robes, she slipped into the warm water and settled her head against the polished stone. Fiza’s fingers massaged her scalp and applied products to her face and hair while she lounged in the tub, her thoughts drifting.
“Something the matter, Lady?”
Elizabeth turned to Fiza and smiled, smoothing the worry from her face and schooling it into a polite mask. “Not at all.”
When she awoke the next morning, the feather was gone.
Chapter 16
Letters From Home
Draugr snorted, and Elizabeth murmured soft praises until he quieted.
After nearly three weeks of visiting Draugr every day, he finally allowed her to brush and saddle him with minimal rebellion. Her foot had healed, but she still kept a wary eye on his hooves while brushing him down. His ears flicked towards her in interest but stayed upright—no longer pinned flat in warning. Elizabeth clipped a lead rope on his harness, and she took it as a promising sign that Draugr merely snorted instead of snapping his teeth at her fingers.
Taking him by the lead, she walked Draugr out of the stall, his bulk and height dwarfing the other horses in the stable. Buttercup poked her head out of her stall to watch them walk past, and Elizabeth had to yank the reins as Draugr’s teeth came together in a clack, narrowly avoiding the other horse.
