Page 127 of Castle of Nevers and Nightmares

WILLOW

Istill smile at the memory of Bodin’s baffled expression as I walk through the overgrown, damp indoor garden. That hint of a massage had been tempting. I sigh and stretch my aching muscles. Despite the mixed messages with him, today was the best day I’ve had in a while.

The small dragon runs ahead and whines at the door to the castle main, but I’m in no rush to leave the sweet-smelling, woodsy room. Natural light filters through the limescale-covered glass segmented roof. Garden beds and pots are filled with weeds, but a few stubborn, deadly flowers remain.

It’s messy and chaotic and needs loving attention to bring it back to life. But it has potential. A space in the middle is large enough to serve for indoor training if the place is cleaned up. All we need is a little elbow grease and more help.

The garden certainly isn’t going to maintain itself, and Finch has enough to do around the estate. I glance outside to where Bodin rubs his forehead pensively by the stables.

His confusion over the Guardian blessing isn’t right.

The wildling whines and scratches at the door.

“Settle,” I mumble. “I’m coming.”

I follow the hungry beast through the castle corridors and into the lower-level dining room. The table is empty, so we continue to the cellar level toward the kitch. I haven’t been in here yet. Cricket has looked after me so well that I haven’t needed to.

“Come in!” an unfamiliar voice calls when I knock.

Is there a cook here after all? I poke my head through the archway. Bouquets and garlands of dried herbs decorate the bulkhead over a central butcher’s block. A pot sits on a soot-covered stove by the wall. Vegetables, fruit, and other food items are stored around the room. Two doors lead to what is likely more storage space. A series of three oil paintings decorate another wall.

“Here!”

Okay, that definitely came from in here, but I still can’t find anyone. The dragon runs laps around the butcher block, impatient for his treat. He lifts on his hind legs and flaps baby wings to help him sniff the wooden countertop.

“Get down!” I click my fingers and point at the ground. “Youreallyneed some training. What have they been doing with you all these years?”

“That’s exactly what I said to Cricket!”

My eyes widen. “Who said that?”

“Me!”

My gaze snaps to movement inside an oil painting, and I gasp. A pretty mermaid combs her long red hair while basking on a rock.

“Was wondering when you’d come to see me,” she pouts and raises her brows. “Told Cricket it wouldn’t take long. Try the sack in the cool room if you want his treats.”

She waggles her pearl comb toward a door. I pinch myself to ensure I’m not dreaming. Ouch. Okay, not dreaming.

“Um. Thanks.” I use the time searching the cool room to process the fact a painting is talking to me. I’ve never seen anything like it in Elphyne. But I’ve also never seen a castle that moves rooms while I sleep.

I can’t find the sack, but strips of fresh meat sit on a top shelf—a little for me and the beastie. When I return to the kitch, I pop a piece in my mouth and point my finger to the ground when the wildling tries to scamper up my legs.

“You need to sit if you want a yum-yum.”

It takes a few attempts, but eventually, he understands and is the picture of obedience. When I’m out of treats, I dust my hands and say, “All gone. Off you go.”

“Ooh yes,” the painting says, combing her long tresses to cover her breasts. “I had a feeling you were the right one. Told Cricket that when Master Fox was pining over you. And that was years ago.”

“You’re the chatty gossip.” I laugh, realization dawning on me.

She purses her lips. “I amnota gossip. That is illegal.”

“Sorry.”

“But I know it’s what Miss Hoity Toity calls me. What else can I do here all day, stuck inside a painting? Without my dearest Captain Jubal Rackham, I’m bored out of my mind.”

I sense a long tale coming on, but before she launches into it, I pinch myself again. Still hurts. No prickling ants crawl over my skin, so it can’t be a dreamscape.

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