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She lifted her head to see what held her captive. Lumps jutted from all directions as if she were not alone in the bed any longer. She struggled to prop herself up on one elbow and realized she and Medda were no longer alone. Half a dozen goblins sprawled across their bed. When she looked around the room, still lit by the blue-green of the runestone, she saw the other bed also piled high with children. More spilled across the floor, lumped together like puppies in a pile. Snores filled the room.
She disentangled herself and eased from the bed. Every bit of her protested, her muscles aching. Her wounded shoulder was especially tender. She felt sore and dirty and exhausted. Her throat was so parched she struggled to swallow, and when she tried to open her mouth, her dry lips stuck together.
And she needed to attend to certain natural needs.
She tip-toed around snoring goblin children and inched toward the door. She wondered how long she had been sleeping: was it morning? How did they tell time down here in the tunnels? Surrounded by rock, they had no glimpse of the sun to guide their routines. She glanced up at the ceiling and imagined the weight of the mountains hovering above her. The thought almost made her sick.
Outside, footsteps echoed in the corridor. She gripped the iron door handle and eased the door open so she might slip out of the room.
The housekeeper barreled toward her, one hand holding her mobcap in place. Her face was a ruddy color, lips parted as she breathed heavily.
“They’re gone!” Trap gasped, hurtling toward Anrid.
She guessed the problem and lifted a reassuring hand. “They’re in my room. All of them, by the looks of it.”
The housekeeper braced a hand against the wall and caught her breath. “I might have known.” She ran a hand over her face before exchanging a wry look with Anrid. “I should have checked here first, but I didn’t realize they knew where you were.”
“Well, they found me.” She let her mouth tip in a smile.
Trap smoothed her apron and seemed to shake off her flustered emotions. “Well then. I can find you another room.”
Anrid laughed at that, suspecting it would be a fruitless effort and that wherever she went, the goblins would soon follow. “Actually,” she said with an embarrassed wince, “I’m more in need of...facilities. To relieve myself.”
“That ingrate!” Trap gasped. “Why am I not surprised he didn’t think to sort that out with you? Come along.” She marched down the corridor with an authoritative air that demanded Anrid follow, not that she had anywhere else to be.
They returned to the bathing chamber at the stairs. “I will make sure you get an official tour later today,” Trap was saying. “But this is the residential wing, and everything you need will be in here.” She swept into the chamber and ran her fingers over the runestone at the entrance to brighten the darkness within.
The tidy room bore no trace of the bathing fiasco from earlier.
Trap motioned to a set of doors along the left wall that Anrid had not noticed the night before. “Those are the facilities,” she explained. “Would you like a bath afterwards? You appear like you need one.”
Anrid flushed at the frank assessment. “You’re quite right,” she admitted. “I would love a bath.”
She hurried to the nearest door and entered a tiny cubicle carved out of the stone. It seemed quite similar to the outhouses she’d used back at Fangward, except everything was made from stone rather than wood. Even the seat was just a stone slab with a hole in it.
After taking care of her needs, she returned to the bathing chamber to find Trap humming to herself as she dropped glowing runestones into one of the copper tubs.
Anrid pattered up to her and peeked down at the tub. “Is that how you make the water warm?”
Trap dropped the last stone into the tub with a splash. “Oh, yes. I imagine you do things differently where you come from.”
“Indeed. We don’t have magic rocks. We have to boil our water. Sponge baths are much more practical, so we rarely have the luxury of a proper bath.”
She must have sounded wistful because Trap snorted in amusement. “Well, this will be a treat, then. In you go. I will find you some clean clothes to wear. You’ll find soap on the ledge over there.” Before she left, the housekeeper pulled a privacy screen over and set it up between Anrid and the door.
Anrid wasted no time shedding her filthy garments and stepping into the steaming water. The rocks warmed the bottoms of her feet, the sensation delicious and soothing. She wasn’t inclined to sit on them, however, and cleared a space for herself before sinking down into pure bliss.
Chapter 12
Jael only slept for a few hours before he dragged himself out of bed. Too much needed to be done for him to laze about beneath his blankets. Between Kora, the Bifrost, and Anrid and all her goblinborn orphans? He had more than enough to keep himself busy.
He dressed in clean robes, then made his way down to the kitchen. Perhaps he could find something left in the larder to appease his rumbling stomach before he tackled the days’ enormous tasks.
He found Granger snoring in his rocking chair beside a runestone fire that had petered to mere glowing rocks. The poor fellow hadn’t even made it back to his bed before collapsing. Belatedly, Jael wondered how long it had taken the cook to clean up after last night’s festivities. He should have found him some help, but none of them had been prepared for this invasion of unexpected company.
He needed to sort out this mess soon so that he and his staff would survive the encounter. A plan. That’s what they needed. A battle plan.
Wrangling that lot rather resembled a battle.
