Astaroth held out his hand, and Calladia dropped the stone into his palm. He turned it over, running his fingers over the waxy gray surface and toying with the runes so the cage bounced. “You’re quite knowledgeable about magic,” he said. “I can see your raw power, of course, but it takes more than that to be an accomplished witch.”
Calladia’s smile turned wistful. “My parents enrolled me in magic classes from a young age, hired private tutors, the works. I didn’t like the expectations that came with it, but I loved learning.”
She was looking out at the trees, but Astaroth had a feeling she wasn’t seeing them. He wondered what road her thoughts were leading her down.
“It’s a hard thing,” she continued, “being good at magic. That sounds ridiculous, and it is, but you learn quickly that magic isn’t just yours, and it isn’t just a skill set. It’s a legacy, passed down through generations. It doesn’t come free.” Then she scoffed and shook her head. “Listen to me, being maudlin for no reason.” She looked around. “Where’s my backpack?”
Astaroth retrieved it and handed it over.
“Thanks.” She pulled her water bottle out of the side pocket and drank, then passed it to him so he could do the same. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter,” she said, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “Let’s check out the room.”
Astaroth wanted to demand she stay there and share all her secrets with him, but that would make her snap and raise her defenses further. He pushed down his burning curiosity and bowed, sweeping his hand toward the door. “Then lead the way, oh fair nemesis.”
EIGHTEEN
Oh, fair nemesis.
Ridiculous.
Astaroth was still bent over in a dramatic bow, eyes gleaming with mischief as he gazed up at her. He looked too damn good for someone who had spent two days on the road without a shower after sustaining a traumatic brain injury.
She needed to get him a new shirt though. And herself, for that matter. While she had another ratty flannel in the truck somewhere, it would be nice to wear something that wasn’t wrinkled or sweat stained.
Calladia stepped around Astaroth to get to the door. The treehouse was shaped like an octagon around the wide trunk, with floor-to-ceiling windows shielded by moss-green curtains. The front door was large enough to accommodate even a griffin or centaur and had been carved to depict griffins in flight. Brass doorknobs stood at various heights, from the base to the top. Calladia slipped the key fob into a hollow above one knob, and the lock clicked.
Inside was just as charming as Tansy had cawed. The ceiling was angled, with exposed wooden beams, and the live trunk of the tree formed a rough central pillar. Calladia walked clockwise around the trunk, admiring the space as she opened curtains to let the late afternoon light in. A stove sat near the front—magically powered, presumably—along with a mini fridge, a sink, and an adjustable dining table and chairs built to accommodate beings of multiple sizes. Past the kitchen area was a Japanese folding screen painted with a forest scene. When Calladia pulled the screen back, she found a toilet and sink, a full-length mirror, and a massive porcelain bathtub/shower that caused her to let out an involuntary moan. She hadn’t had a good soak in a long time, and boy, could she use one.
She pulled back the folding screen on the other side of the tub to continue her exploration. This seemed like a sitting area, with rustic furniture scattered around. There was a dresser and more eclectically constructed chairs, as well as shelves holding board games. Past that was a plush-looking four-poster bed and a small couch in front of a fireplace in which blue flames flickered. Calladia recognized the spell powering them: the fire would emanate warmth but no smoke, and it was limited to one spot, so there was no danger of burning the tree down.
The room was definitely cute. She’d have to compliment Tansy—
Calladia’s thoughts ground to a halt.
Hang on.
She turned to face the bed.
The only bed.
“This can’t be right,” Calladia said. “I asked Tansy for two twins.”
“Did they confirm there were two beds?” Astaroth asked. “I got lost with all that screeching.”
Calladia thought back to her conversation with Tansy, which, now that she considered it, had seemed odd. When Calladia had requested two twins, the griffin had nodded sagely and said the request seemed redundant, but there were indeed two frames.
Or had the griffin actually said consult the flames?
Calladia hurried to inspect the fireplace. An engraved metal plate was screwed into the front: