Rise (War Witch Book 1) (21 page)

Ramora shook her head, touching first the mark on her brow, then her heart.
It is not only my duty, but my pleasure.

Imicot's smile widened. "As soon as I saw you, I knew you had come for me. That lovely Rabbit of yours, it shows the compassion you carry in your very soul."

Seeing the look of confusion that crossed her face, Imicot squeezed her hand, touch so light, it was as if he was made of feathers. "Oh, I can see it all right. The way it hops and dances around you. It’s plain to these old eyes. My own sings to it, you know. I can feel it, feel them both, singing so beautifully to one another."

Ramora sank to her knees, listening as her Avatar sang, and sensing a second voice, the Bat she’d picked up when she entered. After a moment, she realized she actually could hear it, a deep bass melody to the light tenor of her Rabbit.

"It is wondrous, isn't it?” he asked. "I’ve learned that when two souls who are destined to meet do so, they can hear their Avatars singing to each other. We were fated to come together at this time, my dear. I’m so grateful for that."

Smiling up at him, she felt her heart overflow with the love his Avatar held for him. She could almost see it, a majestic and regal creature that soared about him, crooning out all the good things he’d done with his life.

"He’s not impartial," Imicot chuckled. "I’ve done only one good thing in my life, and it does not wash my hands of the ill. My sins cannot be wiped away, save by you. Thank you, for this."

Nodding, Ramora let her Avatar sing that she would begin preparing at once.

"No, no," Imicot sighed. "Tomorrow, after you have rested. There’s time enough yet. I’ve waited this long, I can wait until tomorrow evening."

Nodding slowly, she agreed to this. There was cleansing to do, and items to prepare. It would take time.

"If you don't mind, could you please help me to my bed? I’m tired. I haven't had this much excitement in some time," he said to her, patting her cheek in way she felt was almost fatherly.

Tenderly, she helped him ease out of the chair, holding his hand, cradling his back as he made his way across to the sprawling bed. Slow though he was, she saw it clearly. There was still nobility in his movements.

Easing him down, she helped him arrange himself before fetching the glass of water and sitting it at his bedside. He reached out for her and took her hand, holding it as he smiled up at her.

"Please, stay a bit longer," he said. "Esteban will not have dinner ready just yet. Let me hear your Rabbit sing."

Easing down on the bed, Ramora nodded. Holding his hand, she listened with him as their spirits sang.

After Ramora disappeared into the sorcerer's room, Chara stood in the hall for a moment before going to stare out the window, taking in the view of the raging blizzard outside from her towering vantage point. She felt like the storm was inside her, as well.

Taking a long, steadying breath, she forced herself to step back and get some perspective on the matter. The man who had slaughtered Ramora's family. That was what was at stake here. Not her feelings, but Ramora's.

Thumping her head against the window, she felt ashamed for having taken it so personally. If the situation were reversed, she couldn't say she wouldn't have reacted the same way. In fact, she was sure she would have, no matter how she felt about the person she was with.

"Way to be a spoiled brat, Chara," she commented to her reflection.

"I'm sorry?" Esteban said from behind her as he eased the door shut.

Jerking around, Chara put a hand to her chest. "Gods above, you scared the crap out of me!"

The Were gave a slight bow. "My apologies."

"Forget it," she said, waving it off. "I'm just wound a little tight lately."

Giving a slight nod, Esteban motioned towards the stairs leading back down. "If you would care to rest in your rooms, I will be preparing a meal for you and your companion shortly."

"I think that's a good idea," she sighed. "Do you suppose they'll be long?"

"I don’t think so," the Jaguar replied. "I have some inkling of what it is the master wishes to speak with her about, but it should take less than an hour."

"Oh, I guess, I could go freshen up then," she muttered. "Wouldn't want to go to dinner all yucky."

Esteban's ears twitched. "Yucky?"

"Never mind," she told him. "How hard would it be to draw a bath?"

"A simple matter," he said as they reached the floor below. "You should have no trouble with it."

She nodded slowly. "Great. Okay. And dinner is when?"

"I will knock on your door when I’m prepared to serve it," he replied.

Fidgeting, she gave him an uncertain look.

"You should have at least an hour to two," the Werecat replied with a note of annoyance.

"All I needed to know," Chara said as she opened the door and stepped into the massive room.

"Fantastic," the Cat intoned, ears laying back. "I will see you shortly."

"I'll be right here," she replied as she shut the door. "Doing nothing of value."

Damn Cat
, she thought.
Some kind of a snob.

"I will see you shortly," she mimicked with disdain. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Probably going to give me that condescending look when he sets me down with thirty damn forks and I don't know what to do with them all."

Staring around the room for a minute, she sighed heavily. "At least he brought us our stuff," she mumbled, wandering over to where their saddlebags and equipment had been neatly stacked. "Wonder if he sniffed my clothes?"

Digging around a moment, she found her regular boots, pants and a shirt and laid them in a chair. Maybe a bath would be a good idea, after all. It might actually help her calm down.

"Help more if somebody's house pet knew how to read the mood in the room," she said, then looked around. "All the best things come out of my mouth when no one’s around to hear them."

Shaking her head, she crossed to the first of two doors that lay on either side of the massive bed. She knew she wasn’t in the best mood, just like she knew she shouldn't feel so crabby. How else was she supposed to feel, though? Two months of riding a horse, so she could spend two weeks of trying not to freeze to death, at the end of which, she gets looked down on by a pussy, instead of playing with one.

"Damn, Chara," she commented to herself. "Bitter much?"

Yes, she thought in answer to her own question. Though, she knew she had no real right to be. It wasn't Ramora's fault, or Esteban's. It wasn't anyone's fault. She was just feeling sorry for herself. A glance over at the bed, that she knew she would be sharing with Ramora later, helped sooth the jagged emotions whirling in her.

"Take a bath," she intoned. "Take a bath. Take a bath."

Opening the door, she stared into a sprawling room, the candelabras lighting themselves as soon as the door opened. Overstuffed chairs, footrests, loveseats with giant cushions, a bar stocked with alcohol she couldn't even guess the name of, and more books than she’d ever seen stared back at her.

"That isn’t the bathroom," she said.

Even the tower was having fun at her expense now. Wonderful.

Shutting the door, she circled the bed and tried the other, finding what she sought. White stone greeted her as the lights came up of their own volition, showing her the long, mirrored vanity complete with comfortable chairs, some indoor plumbing, which startled her a bit as she tried to figure out where it led to, a glassed-in chamber with a nozzle and most of all, a bathtub big enough to seat at least eight from her guess.

"Okay," she sighed. "I’m so not in Rheumer anymore."

To think, I thought I felt like a hick earlier when I wanted to make out with my hot friend.
The thought wandered into her mind of its own accord, making her feel even worse. Catching a glimpse of herself in the vanity mirrors didn't help.

She paused and tried to smooth her hair down where it stood out, days of keeping it wrapped in a hood doing it no favors. On top of that, she looked tired, dark circles under her eyes, and a slight reddening of the skin from the sun reflecting off the snow.

At least until the snowstorm had started. That had made everything better. Yes it had.

Shaking her head, she stepped away and moved to the tub, staring down into it. Deep enough for eight, too. Imicot must’ve had some wild parties when he was younger.

"Dad stayed here," she whispered to her rebellious brain. "Let's not go there."

Her brain apparently agreed and offered no more weird thoughts.

"You know what, girl," she said to herself as she eased down on the edge of the tub, staring at the odd nozzle. "You haven't slept for crap in two weeks. It's possible you’re a little off right now. A hot bath, some decent food, and a good night’s sleep will do wonders for putting you back to right."

When she found she had no argument for that, she smiled and nodded. Now to just figure out how to work the tub, which had no piping for water that she could see, or even faucets for that matter. Just the strangely shaped nozzle, and two drawings to either side of it, one in blue, the other in red, with another above it in teal.

Chara stared at them for some time. She had no idea what they were. Scowling, she jabbed the blue drawing. Nothing happened. Looking to the Heavens, she poked the red one. More nothing happened. Hanging her head, she touched the teal one.

Water sprang forth from the nozzle. Chara stared at it a bit, leaning around to look at the front of the tub, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Finding nothing, she considered the possibility she really had gone mad and was imagining all of it.

Sticking her hand under the water, she found it tepid, neither too hot or too cold. That wouldn’t work. Considering the weird scribbled drawings again, she pressed her finger to the red one, wondering if it meant heat. To her delight, the water warmed.

"Okay, I got this," she said. "Country girl can figure out this magic thing."

It was a magic thing, she assumed. Everything else in the tower seemed to be. Why not the bathroom? Though, that really did make her wonder again where the commode led to.

Working the button until the water was perfectly hot, she looked above the magic faucets and found the plug for the drain sitting next to an unmarked bottle of pearl-colored liquid. Dropping the plug in place, she picked up the bottle, opened it and sniffed, finding the smell of vanilla wafting out to her.

"So, this is here for a reason," she told herself. "Or so I hope."

Shrugging, she poured some in the water, watching with fascination as it began to foam. She had no idea what that was about, but added more, since it smelled nice and she didn't.

With the tub filling and the foam building, she nodded to herself and stood, removing her robe and tossing it over the back of one of the chairs. Between the weird glass chamber thing and the wall, she spotted a tall rack holding the fattest, fluffiest towels she’d ever seen, as well as several small washcloths.

"Now we're talking," she giggled to herself as she fetched a towel and a couple of cloths. Somehow she wasn't surprised when they all smelled of lavender. Everything here smelled of something.

Setting them within reach, she eased into the tub, gasping slightly at the heat. After weeks of cold, though, she wanted it. Sliding down, she found the water felt almost like silk, and grinned.

She crawled over, shut off the tap and scooted back to the rear, where she found the tub perfectly contoured to rest her head. Settling in, she felt the last two and half months ease away, along with her bitterness and anger.

"I take it all back," she moaned. "Magic is awesome."

Glancing about, she spotted a toffle stone nestled in a holder on the far side of the tub. Considering that for a moment, she lifted a leg, scowled at the growth of hair that had built up since she'd last had a bath, and grabbed for the piece of dried coral.

Harvested from the shallows all along the southern coast, toffle stone dried up easily, turning into small, hard rocks. When they got wet, however, they would puff back up to their original, spongy nature.

Best of all were the nearly indestructible organisms that lived inside the coral. Too small to see with the naked eye, she had learned long ago that when the toffle dried, they fell into hibernation, and awoke when wet. They were hungry, too, which worked out wonderful, as they would eat hair.

Chara rolled the toffle stone in the water, letting it grow plump before pulling a leg up to rub the coral down her skin, leaving it soft, clean, and hair free.

“This must be what Heaven is like,” she sighed.

Invisible to her, Rakiss stood over the tub, smiling down at her.

RAMORA
STAYED WITH IMICOT
until he fell asleep, his Bat humming out a thank you to her and her Rabbit. With a smile, she tugged the blanket around him and rose, padding away as silently as she could. Stepping into the hall, she eased the door closed and leaned against it a moment, once again grateful to Father for having put her back into the world at the right place.