It really was astonishing. And a little dizzying, so I stepped away.
I walked through an open arched doorway to the adjacent smaller room. Being an interior apartment, this did not have windows but I was surprised to see a small rectangular light well that was lined with glazed brick, increasing the illumination. And there was a hook above the small desk and chair that had a lantern hanging from it.
It was not as pleasant as some rooms I occupied briefly in the houses of previous employers, but writing in here would be an absolute pleasure compared to tramping about in wagons, rumbling over ruts every ten feet, spilling ink and scratching marks on the page so sloppy I could barely make out what I intended when I looked back on them hours later.
Opposite the desk was a simple bed, but that too would be luxury after sleeping alongside a wagon wheel, stirring at every noise in the dark, wondering if Hornmen or Brunesmen or some other unknown enemy would come thundering through our encampment trying to kill us all.
I set my gear down and saw that someone, the steward or slaves who prepared the room for our arrival, had dragged in a copper tub as well. Or maybe the tub was always here, but one finger dip inside told me they had filled it recently-the water was lukewarm, but the copper held the heat nicely.
A bath. A warm bath. It felt like ages since I’d had one.
I pulled some new clothes out of my satchel and quickly stripped out of my filthy tunic and trousers, the wool caked in dirt and splotches of blood. After piling my smallclothes on top and unwinding the bandage around my waist, I stepped into the tub, actually relieved it wasn’t boiling hot. I slid down, the water rising to the middle of my chest, the warmth luxurious, my itching wound finally forgotten.
A bristle brush was hanging from a hook on the side, and there was a small tray with a hunk of soap as rough as a millstone. I scrubbed and lathered and rinsed, then slid down as far as I could, my arms draped over the side, my eyes closed.
I only intended to rest, but must have fallen asleep for a few moments when I heard a voice. “Well. Don’t you look cozy.”
My eyes snapped open. A woman’s voice. Skeelana.
I sat up straight and then started to cover myself.
She was sitting cross-legged on a chair behind the table. “Oh, the soap scum is like lily pads, and you’ve browned the water nicely. I didn’t see anything.”
“What… How did you get here?”
Skeelana pointed at the door. “Not exactly a challenge. Wasn’t locked.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Same as you. Relaxing a bit. You looked very comfortable before I startled you. I almost felt guilty.” She didn’t look it in the slightest. “Though now you don’t look especially peaceful.”
I had no idea what to do or say-I’d never been interrupted during a bath by a woman before, and certainly not one I was strangely attracted to. But she spoke to me as if we were strolling along a crowded street.
“Uh, what I meant to say was, is, I am glad to see you, but what are you doing here right now? The captain could return any moment, and I’m pretty sure he would have the same question, but asked much less nicely.”
She didn’t seem particularly bothered by that either. “Oh, I saw him earlier. Towermates he hadn’t seen in years dragged him off to drink. I think we are quite safe.”
The way she said that made me feel anything but. Though not at all in the same way my unexpected conversation with Soffjian had in the wagon in the dark. Here, I just felt off balance, flushed despite the tepid water, awkward, and uncertain. “I’m going to get out now.”
Skeelana smiled. “By all means.”
“That is, to get dressed. To-”
She stood up. “Oh, never fear, Arki. I’m only playing with you. I will avert my eyes.”
True to her word, she turned away. I parted the dirty water as best I could, stepped out, shivering, even though the day was still warm. And slipped into my clean undertunic, tunic, and trousers as quickly as possible, stumbling as my wet foot caught in the pant leg and I nearly fell over.
Skeelana glanced over her shoulder and laughed. “You alright back there?”
“Yes,” I said, trying to free my foot and work it through, again nearly toppling. “Just fine, thanks.”
When I was finally dressed, she turned around and sat back down. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more on the final stretch back here. Soffjian felt it would be best if we maintained some distance. Especially after I treated Captain Killcoin. That did so unnerve his retinue, and certainly the man himself. I did miss our chats though.”
I felt myself flush even more. “I did as well,” I admitted, sitting on the bed.
We both sat quietly for a few moments, until she broke it with, “See, that’s it, right there. Most people, this silence would be incredibly awkward. With you, it’s only mildly awkward.”
I laughed, and it felt good. Really good.
Skeelana looked at me, and while her blue eyes had a way of ensuring whatever I said next would be foolish or floundering, I still found myself enjoying looking back. “Aren’t you worried? That you might have been seen coming in here? Is that…?”
“What? Appropriate? No, probably not. Most Syldoon don’t consort with us unless necessary. But we are allowed in the Tower, after all. We are a part of it, even if there is a divide. We can walk down the halls. And most anyone I saw ran off in the other direction as soon as possible, not especially caring where I was going. So no, not really worried. Though I don’t intend on staying all that long. I mostly just wanted to find out what you think of Sunwrack so far.”
I resisted the urge to walk over to the window and look out again. “It is… enormous. Staggering, really. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It is big, that’s for certain,” Skeelana agreed. “After living here for so long, you tend to forget that the rest of the world isn’t built like this place.”
“You said mostly?”
“Hmmm?”
“‘Mostly wanted.’ Was there something else?” I tried to keep the nervousness and excitement out of my voice, chiding myself for being a stupid boy, for thinking an accomplished Memoridon was even remotely interested in me. For wanting her to be. It was foolishness of the worst sort.
She played with the jackal pin on her jacket. “You mentioned something, several days back now, that I’ve been wondering about.”
I felt disappointment and relief. “Oh?”
“You asked me about memories. And how easy or hard it was to uncover those that had been lost or fractured. Something like that.”
“You’re a Memoridon-you don’t remember?”
Skeelana tilted her head, smiling. “Oh, you witty boy. Yes, I do. And I got the sense that wasn’t just idle curiosity. You were asking about yourself, weren’t you?”
After a long telling pause, I went ahead and confessed. “No. That is, it wasn’t idle curiosity.” I considered changing the subject, ending the discussion entirely. But I found myself saying, “I never met my father. That I know of. I remember my childhood, of course. My mother. For whatever that’s worth. But I was thinking, wondering, that is…”
She waited patiently. I pressed on. “Well, maybe I had seen him. Maybe he’d checked in on me and my mother when I was really young and I just don’t remember. I met his retainer, but never my father. I don’t think. And when you said sometimes memories get buried or broken, I was thinking…”
Hearing the plaintive tone, I regretted saying anything at all, but Skeelana gave me a smile without guile, mockery, or sarcasm. “It might be possible. Might.”
“But, you could look. Inside me. Find it if it’s there, maybe restore it.” She opened her mouth, but I kept talking. “I know how ridiculous it sounds, or seems. I mean, even if a memory was there, even if I had seen him, knowing that, seeing it again, well, it wouldn’t change my life. But still.”