Page 13 of A Court of Ash and Midnight
“I think I can find my way. But thank you.”
As I turn for the stairs, there’s another sound like the flutter of wings, and I look up to see a flash of movement in the rafters far above. Pigeons, it seems. As huge as this place is, it isn’t a big surprise. I climb the stone steps up and around to the third floor. The halls are quiet, the trainees must all be in classes. For which I am grateful, after my embarrassing incident in the bathing room.
When I enter my room, I lock the door behind me and sit down on my bed with a rush of relief. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was, and how much I desired solitude. I’ve spent the years of my life that I can remember avoiding people for the most part, so interacting with so many strangers in one day is draining. At least with my blacksmithing jobs, the conversations were usually short and perfunctory, if I had to have them at all… often different shop owners did the talking while I did the heavy labor.
Kicking off my boots, I lay backwards on the bed and close my eyes…
I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until I am awakened by the sensation of something touching me. Something not just touching me, but walking across my chest. I open my eyes slowly and come face to face with something fuzzy and gray with bright green eyes.
With a shriek, I roll sideways.
The thing launches into the air with black wings, flying up into the rafters over my head. I jump up off the bed and back up against the wall farthest from it, staring up at the thing, heart hammering in my chest. Green eyes stare down at me from above.
I take in the details of the thing. It’s about the size of a kitten, and its fuzzy face and body look like one, too. But it also has small leathery ears like a bat, a row of spikes down the back of its neck, and two black wings. My heart rate begins to slow as I see how tiny it is.
“Did you follow me from the garden?” I ask aloud. Not as if the thing can understand me. Clearlynota pigeon.
To my surprise, at the sound of my voice the affronted expression on the creature turns to one of curiosity, and it lets out a chirping sound and opens its wings, drifting slowly in aspiral back down to my bed. It looks up at me and lets out another friendly chirp.
Fae magic in those gardens for sure…
Slowly, I peel myself off the wall and approach the bed slowly. The thing lifts its little fuzzy tail, a gesture that seems feline in its familiarity, and walks over to sniff at my fingers when I offer an outstretched hand. After a moment’s investigation, it butts itself against me, demanding to be petted. I laugh and tentatively run a finger along the spikes of its back, which are strangely soft and flexible.
“You must have known I needed a friend,” I say softly, realizing in that moment how very alone I feel in this place.
The little cat-bat-dragon begins to purr loudly, and a small puff of smoke curls from its lips. I freeze for a moment, stopping mid-pet, which earns me a very pointed bright-green gaze until I resume stroking her back.
“Well, if we’re going to be friends, you need a name…” I stare down at her in contemplation. “Smokey?” This earns a petulant gaze. Does she actually understand what I’m saying? “Ashes?” An outright glare this time. “Um, let’s see…how about…Trix? You are magical, no doubt, like an Incantrix.”
The little thing flutters its wings and purrs even more loudly, which I take as a yes.
“Okay, then, Trix…”
A loud knock on the door startles us both, and Trix leaps back into the air and flies up into the rafters.
“Embyr? Are you ready for dinner?” calls Professor Julian.
I step forward and unlock the door, smoothing my hair behind my ears as I do. “Hello. Yes.”
Professor Julian smiles and gestures for me to follow. I cast one last look up at Trix from her perch above my room before I close the door behind me and follow him downstairs.
As we exit the staircase and step out into the main hall, I can hear the clamor of voices coming from the dining room. My chest tightens and my stomach drops a little. If Gielle is any indicator of the trainees who live here, I’m not looking forward to meeting another hundred of them.
When we enter the dining room, I force a neutral expression to keep from staring with wide eyes. Everything in the room is massive, from the fireplace that could hold four cows standing upright, to the long table in front of it that appears to be reserved for Guardians and professors, to the tables running down each side of the room piled high with food. The middle of the room is filled with more than a dozen round tables where the trainees sit. Overhead, three huge chandeliers hang from the ceiling, amber crystals dripping from ornate bronze branches.
“Let’s fill our plates, shall we?” Professor Julian asks me, leading the way toward one of the long buffet tables.
It’s hard to choose from the different options. There are a half-dozen types of meats, twice that many vegetables and stews, and platters of fruit and cheese and bread. I pile my plate entirely too high, blushing when a berry rolls off one side as I turn around to head towards the tables.
“I’ll be sitting at the head table,” Professor Julian says, “But we’ll sit you at one nearby.” As we draw closer to one, he says, “Ahh, yes. Toryn! A hand?”
A tall blonde man rises from the table and approaches. As our eyes meet, I realize it’s the same one who came into the bathing room earlier today. The one who told the others I wasn’t a servant. The one who saw me completely naked.
“How can I help, Professor Julian?” he asks, not taking his eyes off me.
“Toryn, this is Embyr.”
“Yes, we met earlier today.” His lips twitch ever so slightly at the corners, and his eyes dance, not unkindly.
