Where Foundlings Hide

Chapter 18

The bathroom is tiled from floor to ceiling in sandstone, with a huge, grand bathtub in the centre. The tap unit has a number of dials, but I eventually find the one that controls the hot water, and another that shoots out a stream of rainbow-coloured liquid that froths and foams, creating a mass of glittering bubbles that dance across the surface.

Creamy towels hang from a golden rail, and a shelf above the sink holds all manner of toiletries, housed in glass jars with pretty labels. I choose a selection and line them up along the edge of the tub.

When I slip into the hot water, I let my body sink so that even my face is submerged. I stay like that for a while, cocooned in heat, watching the tiled ceiling above sway with the motion of the water.

When I finally surface, I rub a thick shampoo that smells like strawberries into my hair, and I scrub my skin with a rough, sand-like soap until it is smooth.

I leave the bathroom reluctantly, swathed in a soft towel, and I jump when I see the group gathered in the living room.

Roma and Ivy are joined by a young man and woman with the same platinum-blonde hair and matching white tunics.

"Finally, we thought you were going to stay in there all evening, Acacia," Roma smiles as she emphasises my new name. She wears another pale-blue dress, but this one has full sleeves and a split at the front that shows off her long, tanned legs. "This is Alistair and Aimee; they are here to help you get ready for your homecoming party."

Alistair and Aimee are brimming with excitement, it's so strong that I can feel it without even touching them. It emanates in waves, filling every corner of the room and making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"Alistair and Aimee are Halers," Roma explains. "They heal people on Earth and in Displacia, but they also perform miracles when it comes to hair and makeup. They are under strict instructions not to speak to anyone about your homecoming until we address the council tomorrow morning," Roma eyes the pair, and they both nod eagerly. "My niece has not been to Displacia since she was a baby," Roma continues, "She's not familiar with our Households, or our abilities. Maybe you could tell her a little about the Halers while you work?"

"Of course." Alistair fetches a chair from the corner of the room while Aimee starts rummaging through a large trunk that is big enough to fit them both inside. They produce a fold out table and an assortment of hairbrushes, makeup, and bottles and jars of unidentified liquid and gloop.

Ivy rises from her seat and drapes a robe around my shoulders. Her fingers brush my neck ever so slightly, just enough for me to feel a tremor of caution. I look into her eyes. What is it? Her eyes flick to Aimee and Alistair, she briefly touches a finger to her lips, a covert warning to be careful what I say in front of them, and I nod ever so slightly to show that I understand.

Aimee and Alistair are like twins, both the exact same height with the same shade of light-blonde hair cut into short, trendy styles, and the same sharp cheekbones. But they can't be twins, because Ivy said that multiple births are impossible in Displacia, but they must be at least siblings, their resemblance to each other is so strong.

I sit down and Alistair starts to rake his fingers through my hair. "We'll need to take some of the length off, a good few inches,"

"Maybe something more sophisticated," Roma suggests.

"Hmm, a few layers should give it a bit of shape,"

"Her skin is dry too," Aimee says, pressing a finger against my cheek. "But I can help with that."

While Alistair combs my hair, Aimee coats my face in a thick cream that smells strongly of menthol and makes my skin tingle. I rest my head against the back of the chair and I close my eyes, ignoring the tingling at the base of my skull.