I almost smile at Cyphus’s look of outrage. His duties don’t usually fall to the kitchen—especially when they have me around.
“Yes,” Tage says evenly. “You.” He looks back at me. “Come.”
I frown at Tage’s clipped tone but follow him when he gets up from the table and heads down one of the many tunnels branching off from the cave’s central space. I don’t know where we’re going but I know it’s not the tunnel that leads to his den. No, this is a different passageway. I take tentative steps in the shadowy shaft, keeping an eye on the broad expanse of his back ahead of me, wary of where he’s leading me.
Perhaps a dungeon awaits me? He might have decided on a different place for me to spend my nights rather than with him in his den. Clearly, last night was awkward for him, too. Not just me.
It’s a short tunnel, narrowing and then opening wide to a pool of steaming water.
I gasp, doing my best not to look as delighted as I feel at the sight.
He stops at the edge and waves a hand at the gift before me. “A hot spring. I thought you might like to bathe.”
A bath? I can’t even recall the last time I had the extravagance of a bath.
“Oh. That would be...yes.” I nod, warmth suffusing me at the unexpected generosity, at his thoughtfulness. “Yes, that would be...nice. Thank you.”
He gives a curt nod, as though uncomfortable with my gratitude.
And in this exchange, it occurs to me that my odor must offend them.
Istink.
Last night takes on a whole new light. Embarrassment stings my cheeks. Maybe that’s why he left so quickly. After our brief kiss he couldn’t suffer me anymore.
I take a sniff at my clothes. They reek of smoke and sweat and the grinding work of these many days.
Does he think I’m someone with a distaste for bathing? Do they think this of all humans? That we’re a filthy, unclean lot? Oh, but no. He spent time with humans. I’m sure beautiful Bertine smelled divine. As soon as the thought skitters through my mind, I regret it. The woman is dead and doesn’t deserve petty thoughts.
Then it hits me with the force of a gale—I’ve been here for days, weeks...andnowhe thinks to extend this invitation?
“Nice of you tofinallyoffer.” My smarting pride flings out before I can moderate the tone of my words.
His eyes harden to obsidian chips, any warmth that had once been there gone between us. I shift uneasily on the slippery rock, regretting the loss of that for whatever reason, even though it shouldn’t matter, even thoughI’mthe one to make certain that warmth vanished.
He motions to my scruffy clothing with a rough motion of his hand. “We can launder those. I’ll fetch a drying linen and some fresh clothes for you.” He gestures to the calm waters of the spring. I assume thosefreshgarments would belong to Danhy and I wonder how she will feel upon returning home to find me wearing her clothes.
I bite my lip, suppressing the thank-you rising automatically to my tongue, unwilling to express gratitude for anything.
I am trapped here because of him. I won’tthankhim for granting me my basic needs.
I gaze from the water to him, my fingers playing with the edge of my sleeve, ready for him to leave so I can sink into the welcoming depths of the spring. “I can handle it from here on my own.”
With a stiff nod, he turns and departs back down the tunnel.
My hands go to the hem of my tunic and then freeze. “Wait,” Icall out. He stops and faces me. “There aren’t any, uh...creatures in there? You know, some other thing from long ago that isn’t supposed to exist?” I wince.Creatures.I don’t know any other way to say it.
Something flickers over his face. “There isn’t anything in there that doesn’t belong.”
There isn’t anything in there that doesn’t belong.So no real assurances that the hot spring is completely safe and empty of creatures. Not exactly comforting.
Once he leaves, I stand at the edge, watching the steaming tendrils curl above the dark liquid surface before I move and peel off my clothes. Reassuring myself he would not have invited me to enter the pool if it’s dangerous, I ease into the warm water, sighing at the delicious sensation. I locate a bar of soap fragrant with some manner of herbs and petals in a dish beside the pool.
I scrub my skin and wash my hair, paddling in place, wondering how deep this pool descends...and then quickly forbidding myself from thinking on such potentially ominous speculation.
Placing the soap back in the dish, I submerge my head, rinsing my hair off just as something grazes my foot.
I scream, launching for the rocky side of the pool, unable to find purchase in my panic. My hands slide against the slippery rock, nails scratching, desperate for a handhold.
