Mine to Fear (7 page)

“
I'll probably stick to my own room.
Get a chance to rest up.” Like resting is what I'm going to be
doing. Guilt pricks at me for not telling her more, but I'm not
about to involve her in the scheme that's forming.

“
Perfectly understandable. I'm sure
it'd do you some good and help give you more time to adjust. But if
you change your mind, please feel free to join us.”

“
Might I tonight, perhaps? I would
really enjoy talking with you.”

“
That would be lovely.”

“
I'll bring a glass of warm milk,
then.”

She laughs. “Tawny tried that last night. I
fear a glass of water suits me just fine.”

“
What is it with Chardonians not
enjoying warm milk?”

“
We're smart like that.”

She laughs as I make my way out of the
hallway. There's much to think on now.

A council meeting. This is
perfe
ct
. Even if I'm supposed
to stay to my room, there's no way I'll stay locked up when the
best opportunity just came my way. Perhaps I won't have to leave
after all. Except I can't cause any problems for her or the
Councilman. It's not only my own life at risk. Yet there must be
something I can do.

O
nce I've
parted ways with Annabelle, I don't waste any time. I make my way,
not for the room I'm supposed to clean next, but to find where
they're holding the council meeting. I'll clean the other rooms
during the night if I have to make up for it. Though maybe this is
why they need to be cleaned? Are some of them staying overnight?
Maybe I can do something with that as well, but I can't chance that
on a hunch. I need something firm to grab on to. Something that
will work. No questions asked.

It doesn't take long to find it. Remembering
the biggest yet most secluded rooms from our tour leaves few
options. Plus servants are swarming it. Which is good as a
confirmation, but bad for carrying through with my plan.

Most of them are bringing in chairs, but
three of them stay to clean. It's probably just as well. I'm sure
the council check for spells before they start the meeting. It's a
common enough practice in Envado in any case from what Tawny has
told me previously.

If Zade would stop being so stubborn
and tell me what's going on with the political side of things so I
could better help, I wouldn't be so desperate to figure it out on
my own. Though it's hard to be too upset with him since I know he's
just trying to protect me. Things have gotten worse for him with
more pressure from the Grand Chancellor and other warlocks since I
was gone. Whatever he's doing, he's working desperately to keep the
council happy while desperately trying to he
lp the Chardonian women
.

No wonder he didn't want me around to
give him one more thing to worry over. Too bad. There’s good I can
do. I know
it
. Enough of just
teaching girls how to spell their nai
ls
. Well, I'm not entirely done with it.
Wouldn't want to go without style, but I'll work on it in addition
to better spell
s.

With that thought to embolden me, I enter
the room pretending like this is exactly where I was sent. An idea
has to come to me. If not, well, it can't be any worse than
scrubbing toilets and hot laundry rooms. “I'm here to help. What
would you like me to do?”

One of the servants, the only male of the
group says to me, “Clean the windows. And do a good job. The Grand
Chancellor likes the light shining behind him as much as
possible.”

“
Of course.” Perfect. Not only does it
get me in here, but it is a lot better than what I was doing
before.

I help myself to the pile of cleaning
supplies and get busy on the windows. Only, not too busy. I take my
time scrubbing every speck I see, and not just the ones I see, but
ones that aren't really there. Even though I'm going to such
lengths, the others are taking just as long while keeping the
talking to a minimum. He wasn't kidding about how clean the Grand
Chancellor likes it.

Shining the tablet
op
and scrubbing the floors with such vigor,
it's easy to believe they take the threat of the Grand Chancellor
coming seriously.

But it hampers my time alone. So when I'm
certain they're all focused on their own tasks, I swipe my hand on
the edge of the glass, leaving a smudge. I purposefully avoid it
while I tackle the rest of the windows.

I'm on the bottom of the last window,
the last one I have to do, other than the spot I'm pretending I
don't see. Thankfully, the others are finally packing up their
things. I thought they'd never get there. I can still make
something happen, and I think I know wh
at
.

One of the servants leaves the room, but the
male servant who told me what to do asks, “Are you almost finished?
The rest of us have other duties we need to attend to.”

Technically, so do I. “Yes, I think I'm
done.” I step back and pretend to scan the window. “Oh, drat! I
missed a big ol' spot.”

My voice is too fake, but all the same, he
shakes his head at me, like the only thing he realizes is I'm an
incompetent Envadi servant. I move to the spot and take my time not
just cleaning the spot, but everything around it.

“
Finish up then. We can't stay to
help,” he says.

“
That's fine. I'll manage it.” I turn
to see his reaction, but he and the remaining servant are already
gone. Guess my job really doesn't matter to them at all.

I continue puttering around for a minute, in
case they decide to return. When no one appears, I quickly swipe
down the spot and dive under the table closest to the window.

After studying the room, I think this
is the best place to hide a voice-activated spe
ll
so no one can see the flash when it
activates. Of course, I'll have to focus on calming myself down,
leaving as little emotions as possible to show when it does
activate. It will be perfect. Or at least, there's nowhere else to
hide it so it will have to be perfect.

I search the bottom of the table for the
best nook to hide it in. The legs meet the table every foot or so,
but the corners have two legs that meet together, creating more of
a nook. It needs to be as small as possible, tucked back beneath
other parts of the table preferably. Even then, there's a chance it
may get caught and that would be bad. Very, very bad.

Poor Annabelle and Councilman Daniel would
probably get in trouble for it, even if the warlocks know it's not
from them. I'm certain they need to protect the meetings at their
house. One more reason not to get caught. I can't bring that down
on them. But if I let the opportunity go without doing something.
I'd regret it too much, even if it means taking a risk. It's a risk
I'll keep taking as long as I'm here. Maybe I won't need to find a
new place to work after all.

Finally, I spot a small nook hidden behind
one of the legs where it joins the table. Perfect. Now, to make a
spell that's activated by Zade's voice. I think that will work.
Maybe. It may mean missing some details if he doesn't speak right
away, but hopefully it also means it goes undetected. Unless they
search for spells in the middle of their meeting. There should be
no need for that. I hope.

I take several, deep calming breaths, trying
to clear as much emotion as I can. Only, as soon as I start to
think of the spell I need to do, emotions flood through me.
Memories mixed with giggling and scoldings. Zade and I used to use
a spell similar to the one I'm about to cast to listen to Mom and
Dad talk. We always wanted to find out what sort of presents and
surprises they had for us.

Of course, we were always caught. I've
learned a lot since I was a girl, though, so no point getting
stressed about that. Especially after working with Cynthia. She's
one clever spell caster.

As much as I'd love to continue reliving
these memories, I force them away. This is no time for nostalgia.
Clear and peaceful. Nothing but the task at hand.

I gather my magic and oh so slowly, it winds
from my hand toward the spot underneath the table where the legs
meet. A tiny, tucked away corner. As it reaches the spot, I think
of Zade, of the sound of his voice. The warm, comforting sound of a
friend. The harsh temper of a protective big brother. The ache of
him telling me his fears.

All of it comes out, tinting the clear spell
with yellows, reds, and blues. Thankfully, they're faint colors.
Once I set the spell to remain off until his voice activates, the
colors will disappear until then.

Once everything is securely in place, I
release the spell. Its colors die off, hopefully ready to activate
when needed. That's should do—

“
What are you doing under there?” An
all too familiar voice booms, making me jerk upright and hit my
head on the underside of the table.

“
Ow.” Pain throbs through my
forehead.

“
Oh, it's you,” Jack says.

With each word, my head pounds more. Not
only do I wish he'd never entered the room and almost caught me
doing something that would get me, at best, killed, but now I wish
he'd just go away so the stabbing sensation wouldn't be as bad.

“
Yes, it's me,” I say as I scoot out
from under the table. “At least, what's left of me after you
startled me into smacking my forehead. What made you think it'd be
a good idea to scare me while I'm trying to get the cleaning
done?”

“
You're cleaning?” One of his eyebrows
raises like he doesn't believe me. Given the nature of what I was
doing, I can't blame him. I do anyway. Brute.

“
Yes, I'm cleaning. Don't you know
there's a council meeting tomorrow?”

“
Everyone is aware.”

“
Well then, why were you yelling at me
while I was trying to clean?”

“
Because climbing under the table
isn't necessary to clean well. Is this some strange ritual that
takes place in Envadi culture?”

Strange Envadi ritual indeed. He probably
hates warm milk, too. “Don't you ever clean the floors under there?
And the…” I struggle to think of a legitimate reason why I'd be
down here on the floor. “…chairs? Look at the seats and legs of
these things. There's an alarming amount of grime.”

His eyes narrow. Definitely not buying my
story. But my spell isn't active yet and won't be until Zade's
voice sets it off, so barring that, it's not like he can find
anything wrong.

To prove my story, I lean back down and rub
my cloth from cleaning the windows down the legs of the closest
chair. It actually is kind of gross this close up. Not awful, but
like no one's really thought of this task before. Still, as I move
to the next leg, it feels rather inane, but I don't stop. The
carving parts where there's more of a crevice in the chair have the
most amount of dust, which takes the most work to clean out. I push
harder at slipping my rag into each one like these chairs really
need to be shiny for tomorrow. The whole time I'm focusing in on
him while he looks at the chair, trying to gauge his reaction.
Wondering if he believes my story.

It doesn't take long to forget about him as
I come to a crevice that's particularity deep. When I finally get
it clean, I realize I forgot to keep track of him and glance up. He
rolls his eyes.

There. He's bought my story, even if
it meant making a fool of myself; it's nothing new where he's
concerned. Without another word, he strides from the room. I won't
miss him when it comes time to leave and find a place I can help
mo
re
. Too bad it's not today.
Even more unfortunate now, I have to scrub all these chairs. All
fifteen of them. That's a lot of chair legs. What a foolish way to
spend my afternoon. Tomorrow had better be worth it.

I'm just finishing the first chair when Jack
comes striding back in the room. What trouble is he going to cause
now? Except he doesn't say a word, or even look at me. He sits on
the floor next to me, pulls out a cloth, and starts wiping down the
chair.

Is this guy for real? Does he want to help
get these clean or is this a way of keeping an eye on me? It has to
be the latter. There's no other reason someone like him could
possibly have for doing otherwise.

I move on to the next chair on the other
side, working on cleaning out each crack. It's mind- numbing work
that leaves room for thought, but instead my mind clears, making
way for just the movement to lull me in a sort of peace I haven't
felt for a long while.

Time quickly passes as we work, and we
continue to move away from each other until we're half way through
and we start moving toward one another. By the time I get to the
last chair, my arms ache. While I'm working on the front legs, Jack
takes the back until we're both through.

I drag myself to a standing position and
stretch my arms far above my head and then behind my back. It feels
good to move about after being cramped on the floor so long. And it
would have been longer if it wasn't for Jack. Grudgingly I say,
“Thank you—”

“
Don't bother,” he interrupts. “If I
hadn't helped, you would have still been here when the warlocks
arrived to secure it for the meeting, which would cause problems
and delays.”

Meaning, I cause problems and delays, but it
answers why he helped. At least he doesn't suspect me of
something.