and missed her warmth and company, and it took her a long time to sleep.
When she opened her eyes in the morning, the bed was warm and for one delicious minute the chill on the tip of her nose was less a hardship than a pleasant reminder of how warm the rest of her was. Then it all came crashing back down again: the fire to be stirred to life, some sort of food put in their stomachs. Judah in the tower. They’d tried to climb it once, when they were twelve. Judah and Gavin had gone ahead. Elly, frozen with fear, had managed only the first step when a crumbled piece of stone crashed down past her. Above, Judah and Gavin had laughed, but the pieces of the cracked stone were still there and Elly would have still been there, too, if the others hadn’t come to unfreeze her. She’d been unable to make her legs move, unable to keep from feeling like she was balanced on the branch of a tree. Angen’s voice echoing in her head: silly little kitten, stuck up a tree. However will the kitten get down? What if the wind starts to blow, and the tree begins to shake? Like this—
Quickly, she climbed out of bed and pulled on her clothes. The cold drove away the comfortable warmth and most of the uncomfortable memories. In the parlor, the fire had already been stoked, the pot of oatmeal from last night set to warm over it. Theron huddled next to the stove, a bird in a rainstorm. “You did the fire,” she said.
“No. Gavin.”
He must have felt guilty. Good; he should feel guilty. “Theron, can you get up the tower steps?” He nodded. “Will you take Judah some food today?”
He shuddered. She didn’t think it was from the chill. “I don’t like the way it feels up there.”
“She took you food,” Elly said. “She took you food all the time.”
The shudder stilled. His eyes were blank. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.”
She wrapped up the last of the bread and cheese from the Seneschal’s visit. The bread was tasteless and gritty, the cheese greasy and dried-out. She wished she had something comforting and loving and good to add, but there was nothing but medium-cold oatmeal and boiled squash. So she wrote a note instead, on the crumbling flyleaf of a cookery book.
Judah: I love you and I miss you. Come down.
The ink in the bottle—her last—had been watered down nearly as much as it would stand. She regarded the note for a moment, then put her pen over the period at the end of the sentence, so the mark would disappear into the ink, and added: when you are ready.
By then, Theron had disappeared. Oh, well; the package would keep an hour or two. The parlor door opened, and she looked up quickly, hoping it was Judah—but it was the magus, his battered leather satchel slung over one shoulder and the burlap bag over the other. Heavy laden as he was, and with the ineffable alien air that always clung to him, he reminded her of one of the peddlers that sometimes knocked at her father’s door. “Eleanor,” he said, no small amount of alarm in his voice. “Is Judah ill? I waited in the courtyard but she didn’t come.”
Eleanor hesitated, and then said, “She’s fine. She’s just busy.” He was disappointed, she could tell. Maybe Gavin was right, and the magus had feelings for Judah. Marrying him might hold more appeal for Judah than marrying the Seneschal had, she thought, and then remembered Judah in the stables, saying, Do we exist to be married?
I do, she’d answered, just as she’d realized it was no longer true.
“The Seneschal told me about your father,” the magus said. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. My father was a terrible person who sold me to the highest bidder, and the world is better off without him.”
She expected the words to shock him, but he only nodded. “My mother used to say that my father had one service to do the world, and it was over and done with nine months before I was born.”
Elly smiled. “I like your mother.”
“I like her, too.” His voice was wistful, which Elly found fascinating. She didn’t know anyone who was wistful about their parents. “Although I think she didn’t give my father enough credit. I met him once or twice. He seemed decent enough.” He handed her the bag. “Here. I wish it were