The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [114]
‘Noon?’ Rosette looked up above her head to the pinprick of light then back to the woman. ‘How would anybody know the time down here?’
‘How would we not know?’
Rosette stared at her as she left, pulling the door closed behind her.
‘Wait! Kreshkali? Prepare for what?’
A lock clicked shut, the sound sharp over the drone of the waterfall.
Kreshkali paused at the double doors before securing the lock. She knew the girl would take some convincing if she was going to get her help, and what she wanted could not be coerced. A few hours’ rest and refreshment would put the young witch in a better frame of mind and meanwhile, she had another stop to make. The nearest grunnie rubbed his forehead on her back as if she were a sturdy post, pushing her over.
‘Come on with you both.’ She gathered up their reins. ‘Time to get you home.’
She led them down a side corridor and through the portal. Unsaddled and curried, she turned them loose on a high mountain pasture, their bellows ringing through the valley as they trotted down the slope, returning to their herd.
‘Don’t get too comfy. I’ll need you again soon. I don’t think the girl’s fit enough to walk back to the top.’
She slipped into the portal and braced for the return to Earth.
Rosette looked at the food and thought there could be worse prisons. The drink had revived her mind, and her appetite as well. She leaned over the table and sniffed. It looked good and smelled fresh. She broke off a small piece of the bread and popped it into her mouth. It was like cake, melting as it touched her tongue. The meat was unidentifiable, spicy and rich, and when she ate the fruit she thought it was the most delightful thing she had ever tasted. She didn’t know what it was, but she saved the seeds, tucking them into her leggings pocket.
Satisfied, she left the table to take a closer look at the mosaic walls only to discover that closer wasn’t better. From a few feet away, she could only see little squares of colour. There were no heroic figures or sword fights or wild embraces between lovers in the woods. It was all a blur. She moved backwards, one step at a time, until the swirls of colour came into focus and the images returned. Who was the artist who created such a thing? They certainly had a fancy for the Draconic folk—dragons and lizards of the most fantastic colours featured in every panel.
She dropped her coat and moved to the pool’s edge. It was lit from within by some unknown means and through the churning water she could see the image of a great dragon tiled into the bottom, its body lying across the entire floor, its wings extended up the sides. It was so realistic Rosette took a step back.
Just another mosaic. Nothing to fear. She laughed. Nothing to fear?
She automatically reached out to Drayco in her mind and then pulled back. It was doubtful she could connect with him through all this rock. He’d be sleeping anyway, warm by the fire, belly full. And what could she report? She was effectively imprisoned with no clear understanding of why, nor was there an obvious route of escape. She shook her head. It was out of her control, for now, and panic wouldn’t help. Her captor had said to bathe, to prepare for something, and the water did look inviting.
She undressed, layer by layer, until she stood naked beneath the endless dome ceiling. Stepping into the pool, she sighed. It was wonderfully warm. She lowered herself into the water, floating on her back, fully submerged except for her face. She allowed herself to drift and relax. Vitality returned to her limbs and she swam from edge to edge, diving down to skim her belly along the tiles of the dragon’s ridged back before shooting to the surface for a quick breath and diving again.
She floated in the warmth a while longer before getting out. The smooth rock floor was cold to the touch, making her shiver while she stood dripping under the glow of lanternlight. She searched the living area for a towel, finding a large red one that went round her whole