Page 27 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 2

Iskra, Theo, Vic, Tessa, Isabella, Xarek, and I waited for him to undo the locks, which took a while. There were hidden magical ones that had to be undone carefully. We had brought supplies for our relocation: clothes, toiletries. Some of us had packed lighter than others. Xarek had a small backpack, and Tessa and Vic had brought a full luggage set. None of us were in the mood for a guided tour, but it was impossible to rush Marcus. Finally, he undid the last of the locks and swung the door open.

The inside couldn’t have been more different from the stodgy brick and glass of the outside. It looked like a children’s museum and a high-end workshop jumbled together with the sort of bean-bags-and-potted-plants twee design of tech companies trying too hard to seem like fun, fast-paced places to work.

The first floor was one huge room. In one corner, a tangle of rope stretched all the way up to the ceiling. The ropes were strung with huge beads and charms, making it look like someone had woven a climbing structure out of the contents of a giant kindergartener’s jewelry box. A fireman’s pole went down the center of the thing, and when I looked closer, I could see it went up to the floor above.

The space between every window was packed with bookshelves, which in turn were packed with all sorts of things. There were books, yes, but also colorful bottles, a vase of feathers, a jar which held what looked like a small, preserved shark. Some of the books were on magical topics, but I also spotted a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and a volume of Proust bristling with neon orange sticky notes. An old-fashioned phone booth stood against one wall, but the window panels had been replaced with coppery mesh. Everywhere my eye fell, I found at least three weird things I wanted to ask about, but everything blended together with so much chaos, it became oddly uniform. It was like walking through a rejected set for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

“Welcome, welcome,” Marcus said, spreading his arms wide. “Please, make yourselves at home. The kitchen, living room, etcetera are on the second floor, along with the master bedroom and one of the guest rooms. The other bedrooms are on the third. You may go up to the fourth floor, but don’t leave the old foreman’s office, please. There’s a rather extensive colony of endangered birds that got into the main room and started nesting, and I’m loath to disturb them. I’ve taken the liberty of selecting a room for each of you, so follow the light, and you’ll be taken right to it.” He waved a hand, and a little globe of light appeared a few inches above and in front of each of our right shoulders. They bobbed gently, then floated toward the stairs, which were set against one wall and supported on wooden pillars.

We picked our way through the clutter and went up the stairs. The second floor was a little more organized, and I got the sense that the first floor was one giant junk drawer, where Marcus could drop the cool stuff he brought home on the nearest available flat surface and then never, ever put it somewhere that made sense. The second floor was broken up into smaller rooms, with half the space walled off, and the other half set up as a surprisingly tidy kitchen and a much less tidy living room. I’d been right about the view—it was magnificent. The river crashed and raced along the rocks, the pine woods a bright green against the blue sky. I had to stop myself from pressing my nose against the glass like a little kid. Here and there I could see the remains of old stone walls between the trunks.

Beside me, my guide light bobbed impatiently.

I pulled away from the window and climbed the next set of stairs. The third floor had a landing area with a bean bag chair, a scattering of floor pillows, and half a dozen plants thriving in the light spilling in from the huge windows. The rest of the floor was split into two rows of rooms, with a narrow hallway down the middle. I followed the light, which led me toward one of the doors, then disappeared.

The room had the same tall ceilings and the same brick walls as the rest of the mill, but a loft had been added against one wall. There was a hammock in it, and a lamp that was shaped like a crescent moon. The ceiling was painted a deep blue, with gold and silver stars scattered across the beams. The room was big. Even with the old mill divided into chunks, there was still a lot of space to go around. The view out the windows drew my attention first, and I was so taken with the crashing water and thick forest that it took me a second to look back the way I’d come.

A huge mural, which reached up at least fifteen feet, graced the wall behind me. It was the forest. An exact mirror of it, I realized, spotting a tree with a wonky branch that was a twin of one outside. The mural was loose, impressionistic, making it seem like some sort of funhouse mirror reflection of the outside world. It made me feel small, but not in a bad way. Like a little forest creature in a safe burrow. I could see why Marcus had picked this room for me.

The room was sparsely furnished in the way of spaces put together by someone who didn’t actually use them. There was a large bed with a heap of blankets and pillows stacked at the foot of it, and a slant-top desk with a mismatched chair. A door tucked under the loft led to a bathroom that looked like it had been sized for a toilet and a sink, but somebody had decided to fit a shower into it. The shower was a tiny cubicle, and I was pretty sure the room was small enough that if you really wanted to, you could rinse your hair, use the toilet, and wash your hands all at the same time. A basket of mini toiletries stood on the sink: mismatched tiny shampoo, conditioner, lotion with the logos of different hotel chains on them. Marcus was a frugal traveler, and firmly believed it didn’t count as stealing if the item was free. The people who handed samples out at the grocery hated him.

I dropped my duffel bag onto the bed and wandered listlessly around the room the way I did whenever I stayed in a hotel. Something about the weird liminality of a bedroom that wasn’t actually anyone’s always made me feel as though I needed to pace the perimeter, like a dog stomping a circle on their bed before lying down.

I sat on the bed, then stood up again. I fluffed the pillows, threw them at the head of the bed, then smoothed the blankets across the mattress. There. Now, if nothing else, I would have a made-up bed to collapse into at the end of the day. Good. Time to get to the stuff that really mattered.

I went back out into the hallway. I figured the others had gone to pick their own rooms, but when I headed back down the stairs to the second floor, I saw Xarek leaning against the dividing wall, his back to me. He was facing Marcus, who was somehow managing to look up at him, even though they were the same height.

“My room is right down the hall,” Marcus was telling him. “Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”

I made a scandalized face at him from the stairs, one hand on my chest like I was clutching my pearls. Marcus’s lips twitched when he noticed. Theo came clomping down the stairs behind me, their boots loud on the creaky stairs, and Xarek and Marcus stepped away from each other. Theo shot me a questioning look, ducking their head toward the two men, and I waggled my eyebrows. They gave Xarek a once-over, then made a face that said, ‘damn, good for Marcus.’

I nodded.

“Marcus,” I called. “We should start training, yeah?”

“Indeed,” he said. “As soon as you and Iskra are settled in.”

“I’m good to go,” I told him.

“Yes, but you’re not the sort of person who unpacks,” he pointed out. I snorted. He wasn’t wrong. “Her room is up on the fourth floor. Would you like a guide light to lead you there?”

“Nah, I got it,” I said. “Keep doing what you’re doing.” I stifled a smirk, which I was pretty sure I deserved an award for.

The training area was a patch of half-dead grass near the river, far enough from the rushing water, so we could hear each other talk. Marcus had brought out a pair of lawn chairs, the type with metal frames and gaudily woven straps that made up the seats and backs. Iskra looked completely out of place perched delicately on hers, legs crossed primly at the ankles. She’d brought the ring box with her and handed it to me with a solemn set to her mouth.

The ring glinted in the light. Swallowing hard, I slid it onto my left pointer finger, and it adjusted itself to fit perfectly. The metal was warm, and the stone flickered with colors as I angled my hand back and forth.

“It’s not a toy, child,” Iskra said, and I jumped.

“Just, uh…” I cleared my throat. “Just getting a feel for it.”

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, but Marcus nodded.

“A good idea,” he said. “Experimentation is the key to understanding, as I always say.”

I was pretty sure I’d never heard him say that before.

It would be generous to call what happened after that a lesson. In lessons, the teachers usually had at least some understanding of what they were trying to teach. This was more like two people explaining how to drive while they were trying to invent a car.

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