“We are. We need a secure place to stay nearby,” I said. “Just for the night. The storm should clear by morning.”
“Of course it will,” he replied. “Storms are very considerate that way.”
“And I need a parka,” I added. “For Artemis.”
His gaze flicked past me to where she stood, mesmerized by the steam risingfrom the ground.
“Naturally,” he said.
“Preferably one that actually provides warmth,” I added.
He gave me a long look. “Arthur.”
“Yes?”
“You are wet.”
“I noticed.”
“You are also hovering.”
“I’m merely being responsible and considerate.”
He sighed. “Stay where you are.” Then he vanished.
Artemis wandered closer, curiosity pulling her toward a narrow stream cutting through the rock. “How do people live here?”
“Stubbornly,” I said. “And with excellent building codes.”
She laughed, her breath fogging faintly now, and shivered again. Caliban reappeared a few minutes later, holding a folded parka and a small slip of paper.
“Cabin secured,” he said. “Quarter mile east. Paid in full. Key code is written here. It has hot water and a wood-burning fireplace.”
I let myself relax a fraction.
“The ones with central heat were already booked,” he continued. “But this one is structurally sound and not haunted.”
Artemis stiffened. “That was a possibility?”
“In my experience,” Caliban said calmly, “it always is.”
He handed her the parka. “For you.”
She took it, eyes wide. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, inclining his head. He gave me a look that bordered on a glare. “You owe me tea.”
“Several satchels of it.”
“I will collect later,” he said right before he vanished.
Artemis pulled the parka on and sighed in immediate relief. Her shoulders dropped. Color returned to her cheeks.
“Oh wow,” she said. “This is perfect.” She smiled at me, warm and unguarded. “You take very good care of people.”
Of you, a voice in my head corrected.
“The cabin is just over there,” I said instead, nodding toward a narrow path cutting through the moss. “About a quarter mile.”
