Hayes pulled me from the room, closing the door. “Did she give you any more information?”
I relayed the sparse details.
He sighed. “Orphans. Wonderful.” He rubbed a hand along the stubble on his cheek. Dark smudges underlined his brown eyes. “Teegan’s a powerful magician. If he can control his magic, he’ll be enrolled in the Keep’s program.” He scowled.
I guessed where his thoughts went. If Teegan can’t control his magic, he would be joining his mother in the Courtyard of Souls.
Hayes returned his distant gaze to me. “Reema however is another story. We’ll have to contact the authorities and find her a place to stay. She can sleep in his room for a couple nights, otherwise…she’s yours.”
“Mine? But I thought—”
“She trusts you, and I need you to find out as much about her brother as possible.”
“But…”
“What? Do you have something else to do?”
Yes, but I needed to be in the Keep regardless. After Hayes left to check on his other patients, I returned to Teegan’s room. Reema had devoured every bit of food. When a knock sounded, she startled. I opened the door, stepping back so Hayes’s assistant could wheel in another bed. The sheets smelled of soap—a contrast to the rancid odor emanating from the little girl who eyed the assistant with distrust.
My charge. At least for the next few days. First order of business would be a bath. But when I made the suggestion, she refused.
“I need to go home,” she said.
“It’s too late to be out by yourself,” I tried. Reema scoffed.
“That abandoned warehouse isn’t a home,” I said.
She bristled. “You know nothing about it.”
True. But she loved her brother. “You’re right. But I do know Teegan needs you here. He hasn’t woken for the healer, but he woke for you. Without you here, he might not get better.”
A snort of derision. “You’re bluffing. All you grown-ups are the same. You think I’m some dumb kid. That I would stay here and be easy prey for the Citadel’s guards to pick up.” She hopped off the bed.
“At least let me contact this Fire Lady. Teegan told you to stay with her, remember?”
Reema snagged her lower lip with her teeth for a second before crossing her arms. “He’s sick. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
It had been easier to stop a flameout than convince this girl. This whole situation felt familiar. I searched my memory and it didn’t take long. Some recollections never fade with time. Although I might not think about my sister Tula every day, she was always in my heart.
“I’m not bluffing about Teegan,” I said. “My sister needed me with her. She wouldn’t wake for the healers or for Master Magician Jewelrose or for Yelena Zaltana, the Soulfinder. Master Jewelrose showed up in the middle of the night, took me from my home in Booruby and brought me here.” I gestured, indicating the room. “I was terrified, worried about my sister and overwhelmed. They claimed I was the key to saving her. What if I did something wrong and she died because of me?”
The memory of those dark days surged through my body and transported me back in time. I saw Tula, not Teegan, lying on the bed, looking small and brittle. My body ached to hold my sister again. If I had been as smart and savvy as Reema, I wouldn’t have let her murderer into the room. Wouldn’t have gone with his accomplice, trusting them to keep their word that Tula would live if I cooperated.
“What happened?” Reema asked.
Dragging myself to the present, I said to her, “I crawled into bed with my sister and stayed by her side. I helped Yelena coax her back to consciousness.” The girl didn’t need to know the sad ending to the tale. Instead I let the joy of having Tula awake and healthy shine on my face. I would always treasure those few days we had together.
“If I stay here, will you promise me one thing?” she asked.
“If I can, I will.”
She nodded. “If I’m captured by the Citadel’s guards, promise me you won’t let them sell me to the Helper’s Guild.”
19
I BLINKED AT REEMA FOR A MOMENT. HAD SHE REALLY uttered the words “sell me” and “Helper’s Guild” in the same breath? I remembered Fisk’s comments about vicious rumors, but had taken them in stride, never imagining the actual reality of them. She scrutinized my body language and balanced on the balls of her feet. Convinced of the danger, she would run away if I didn’t promise to protect her.
Now wasn’t the time to assure her about the true nature of the Guild. “No one will sell you to the Helper’s Guild. I promise,” I said.
With the slightest softening in her posture, she stuck out her hand. I shook it and she relaxed.
“What’s next?” she asked.
“A bath.” When her stubborn chin jutted, I added, “The bathhouse is empty right now. Unless you want to wait until morning and be there with all the students? Your choice.”
“No it isn’t. Don’t play those games with me. You be straight with me and I’ll be straight with you. Deal?”
She didn’t sound like an eight-year-old. “No sugar-coating?”
“None.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Does it matter?”
“To me, yes. You’re either a child genius or older than you look.”
She flashed me a grin. “I’m both.”
“Humor’s okay then?”
“Yes.”
“All right. So naked truth it is. Do we need another handshake or maybe a blood oath just for something different?” I asked.
Another grin. “I’m ten, and my mother taught me to listen past people’s words and hear their true intentions.”
“Smart lady. Did she teach you to play fair?” One of my pet peeves, I believed schooling kids to play fair failed to prepare them for adulthood.
“No.” Reema tucked her stuffed dog under Teegan’s covers. He rolled over and curled his arm around the toy. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t you want to know my name?”
“I know it. That healer called you Opal when we arrived.”
Smart girl. The bathhouse was straight north of the infirmary. As I guided Reema, I played tour guide as we passed the dining hall and formal garden located in the center of the Keep’s complex. The two apprentice wings curved around the sides of the garden like an incomplete ring around a bull’s eye. Torches lit the empty pathways. No pools or webs of magic touched me. A nice respite. I hurried Reema past the Fire Memorial. I didn’t have the energy to explain its significance to her.
As predicted, we had the bathhouse to ourselves. I helped her wash her hair. After multiple scrubbings, her true color emerged—white blond. Beautiful.
Reema frowned at the long coils.
“It’s lovely,” I said, combing out the knots before it could dry.
“It stands out. Not a good thing where I live.” She scanned the elegant bathhouse.
The arched walls and high ceiling had been decorated with colorful mosaics. Blue-green tiles lined the oval pool. In the corner, the washing area had metal spigots protruding from the walls above head level. The water would rain from one of them when the lever hanging next to it was pulled. A rack nearby held piles of clean towels. A mirror image of this half of the bathhouse resided on the other side for the males.
“I guess around here, you’d want to stand out,” Reema said. “You’d want to be the best and brightest at the Magician’s Keep. Right?”
“The magicians and teachers don’t compare you to other students, but everyone knows who is strong and who has limited power. By the end of the first season of the first year, the pecking order has been established.”
“It must have been fun being at the top.”
I paused. Why would she…? Oh. She had watched me enter a building no one else could, not even a Master Magician. Naked truth sounded refreshing, but might be harder than I first thought.
“Actually, I was at the very bottom,” I said.