Engines of Alchemancy (The Alchemancer Book One)

Chapter 15. Wildemoore Manor

AARON STARED AT THE SHADOWS dancing across the far-off ceiling. He didn't care that he was lying flat on his back, nor that the anteroom's floor was cold. His clothes were wet and uncomfortable, but the room was dry, clean, and quiet in a mesmerizing sort of way. He heard only his own breathing and Ensel Rhe's, who lay next to him where he'd fallen. Not injured, Aaron didn't think, but not moving, either. Aaron lifted his head, just to make sure. Thankfully, the eslar appeared to be in one piece. They'd made it. Not only that, but for the first time in a long time, they were neither running away from anything nor being chased. Aaron could almost imagine life was normal again. Letting out a deep breath, he settled himself into a more comfortable position. He wanted nothing more than to remain just like this for a long, long—

"Hello."

The voice came out of nowhere, startling Aaron and causing him to instinctively drop his head to the floor, but too fast. "Ow!"

"Oops!"

Aaron heard a small giggle.

"Sorry."

Aaron looked up through a kaleidoscope of dancing stars, not at the ceiling this time, but at the face of a girl. She stood over him, her face lit by a wide smirk and a bright glint of amusement that rose from the depths of her crystal blue eyes. If she really was sorry, she did a very poor job of showing it.

"Hello," she said again.

Aaron let his dazed stare wander over her. She was no older than he, with blond hair tied into a ponytail and skin so fair it told of too much time indoors. She wore a simple gown, deep green in color, with a slim belt tied at her waist. Aaron figured she was part of Ansanom's household staff. An apprentice wasn't out of the question, either, though he'd heard no mention of Ansanom having an apprentice, or even an assistant, for that matter.

"Hello," Aaron said in response, the stars starting to fade.

She smiled and might have been about to say something else when, next to Aaron, Ensel Rhe finally stirred. The eslar stood in one fluid motion. Aaron followed suit, though with far less grace. Once standing, he absentmindedly scratched his head where it had impacted the floor. While most of the pain was gone, a dull throbbing remained.

"Do you have fleas?" the girl asked.

"What?" He let his hand fall to his side.

"I asked if you have fleas. You're scratching like you do. I thought maybe you got some, you know, from the dogs." A smile started forming on her lips. It was accompanied by such giggling that Aaron suspected it might soon break into full laughter.

Aaron screwed his face in an expression of annoyance. "No, I don't have fleas. I wasn't scratching, either. You made me hit my head."

"Yes, I saw that. You need to be more careful."

Before Aaron could reply, she shifted her attention to the eslar.

"Master Rhe," she said, "always a pleasure to see you." She effected a jestful bow. Ensel Rhe ignored any intended slight, replying to her greeting with only his usual narrowed gaze. The girl returned her focus to Aaron. "I hope you haven't had to travel far with him. As you can see, he's not much for conversation."

Aaron opened his mouth to respond, then thought better of it. Instead, he looked about the anteroom, hoping in the meanwhile that the girl would go away. There was only faint light here, which explained why they'd seen no signs of life from the outside despite the windows right above the main door. Opposite that door was a wide stair: ornate balustrades accompanied polished wooden steps up to a tapestry hung landing that was empty one moment and occupied the next as the master of Wildemoore Manor hobbled into view. Immediately, the girl ran up the stairs to offer assistance it turned out, for even with the girl's aid, Ansanom's descended one slow step at a time. Aaron used the time to study the sorcerer, who had been his master's confidante and collaborator. He wore trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, and a lab vest much like Aaron's, all of which marked him more as a tinkerer or inventor than a wizard. Aaron knew he was all of those things, though. Like Elsanar, Ansanom was old, though Aaron couldn't remember his master ever having so much trouble with stairs. It was a wonder the old man had made it up them in time to lend his help and no doubt the reason the dogs had nearly been at his doorstep before he'd responded. Perhaps it was only bad knees, for he looked sturdy enough otherwise, being neither tall nor lean, but thick-chested, with strong hands that bore the telltale signs of a craftsman.