Fyrian's Fire by Emily H. Jeffries

Fyrian's Fire by Emily H. Jeffries

Author:Emily H. Jeffries
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emily H. Jeffries
Published: 2019-11-15T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 29

Tess stepped into a cold, dark room about the size of a parlor. Toward the back, a simple kitchen reminded her of a butler’s pantry she saw at Glademont Castle once, with dried and fresh fruits and vegetables neatly organized, and two deep consoles for preparing meals. To her right, flush to the wall, stood a thick tabletop balanced on a pedestal of stone. To her left, a cluster of upholstered chairs faced a sizable fireplace.

Osiris made a show of shivering. “Nothing worse than comin’ home to a frigid state o’ affairs. Quickly, madame gem.”

Tess found her way to the firewood beside the hearth.

“Honestly, Osiris. A fire indoors?” Wyndeling lamented. “Have you no wild instinct left?”

“Ye never cease to amaze, little owl.” The bear snorted good-naturedly and pricked his round ears forward. “Every home be needing a hearth. Ain’t that so, little gem?”

“Oh, indeed,” Tess said, still crouching by the fire.

The bear nodded and went about his duties as host. “Besides that, there be a library o’ sorts in Den Five, as well there should be. Wouldn’t be wanting the old scrolls destroyed by the wind and damp.” He pulled potatoes and leeks from various baskets, which occupied the shelves along the far wall. “For the love of stars,” he said, “take ye a chair, young folk.”

Tess and Linden moved to the four large reading chairs covered in worn fabric. Several pillows occupied each, with scrolls strewn between the cushions.

Smiling, Tess plopped into a red rounded chair stocked with yellow pillows. Linden placed his weapons against the mantel and lowered himself into a tall-backed leather chair to her right. The fire caught Tess’s well-placed kindling and expanded, tickling her nose with the familiar, soothing aroma of burning spruce.

Now that the fire had cast light upon it, Tess thought the den smaller than one might assume. The ceiling just touched Osiris’s ears as he reached for a basket of radishes. Large sturdy shelves lined the dirt-packed wall to the right of the hearth, each full of root vegetables. Opposite these, the pedestaled table supported oversized cast-iron pans.

Linden was already engrossed in a scroll by the fire when another bolt of lightning beamed through a small round window where the ceiling met the pantry shelves. Tess frowned.

“Do you think Ryon has found Profigliano?”

“What’s happened to Ryon?” Linden glanced up.

“That boy be right as rain,” Osiris said. “Yon yellow horse be sharp as a thorn.” Osiris’s furry sides brushed Tess’s face as he shoved his body between the chairs to set an enormous pot upon the fire, filled with fragrant herbs.

Linden dropped his scroll and winced as he remembered the gash on his palm. “What is all this about? Who is Profigliano?”

Tired as she was, Tess rose from her chair to boil a cup of water with vinegar. While she busied herself dressing Linden’s wounds properly, she described everything that had happened to her, from Pider’s attack until Osiris had taken her to the Ruins.

Linden listened with deep concentration, while Osiris tended to his soup and Wyndeling roosted on the back of a chair.



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