Page 27

"Right. Clothes."

"You can have one of my shirts," Rhydian offers immediately. "And some trousers. I'll find you the smallest ones we've got."

I wrinkle my nose. I look at him, then at the other two. Rhydian is the leanest of the three, and he's still twice my size. "I'd rather not spend the whole day swimming in a tent, if it's all the same to you."

Zarek rubs his jaw, thinking. "There might be something in the attic."

"The attic?"

He points up. In the corner, a narrow wooden ladder leads to a square hatch in the ceiling. "We've gathered a lot of things up there over the years. Most of it's been forgotten. There could be something."

That's all I need.

I throw off the covers, making sure the blanket is still wrapped around me like a cloak, and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

All three of them react like I've announced I'm going to throw myself off the roof.

"Absolutely not," Zarek says, standing up so fast his chair scrapes. "You almost froze to death last night. Get back in bed."

"I'll go up," Rhydian says, already moving. "Tell me what you want, and I'll bring it down."

Kaelen doesn't say anything. He just walks straight to the ladder and puts one hand on it, like he's about to climb it himself.

I stare at them.

It's sweet. Really, it is. It's also the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. Three men who fought off a pack of dire wolves with their bare hands are acting like I'm about to wrestle a bear because I want to go up a ladder.

"I've been taking care of myself for years," I tell them. "I can climb a ladder. Relax."

"You're still weak," Zarek says.

"I'm fine."

"You're barefoot," Rhydian points out.

I ignore them, tug the blanket tighter around my shoulders, and march over to the ladder. Kaelen moves aside. Barely. Before anyone can grab me, I start climbing.

It's a little awkward with a blanket, I'll admit. But I manage.

When I look down halfway, all three of them are crowded around the bottom of the ladder, staring up at me. Their arms are half raised like they're ready to catch me at any second.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not made of glass."

"Debatable," Kaelen says.

I keep climbing.

At the top, I push open the hatch and haul myself up into the attic. It's cold up here, and dim, with the only light coming from a round window at one end. The roof slants down low on both sides. Dust tickles my nose.

But oh, there's so much stuff!

Wooden trunks are stacked along the walls. Old chairs with broken legs. Crates. A rolled up rug. A lamp with no glass. Everything is coated in a soft gray layer of dust that says nobody's been up here in a long time.

I start with the nearest trunk. Blankets. The next one has old boots, all of them enormous. A crate has some mismatched dishes. Another has books.

No dresses. No skirts. Not even a woman's cloak.

"Anything?" Rhydian calls up.