Tortured Compositions

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

“Kayse, Teagan. Wake up.” Roxanne snapped, throwing back the curtains to shed more light into the living room. Her posture was demanding, and her fingers clutched hard around the door frame. Kayse tossed her arm over her eyes, feeling weariness even in her marrow, and listened to Roxanne cluck. “Kayse, get dressed and join me. I need to have a word with you. Today, my dears, is a big day.”

Kayse stirred, yawned, and stretched her limbs out every which way as Roxanne swept back into the kitchen. The air tasted young still; the sun had only just started to rise. It was dawn, then, which was the best time of the day. At least, it was when she got enough sleep.

Teagan, on the other hand, thought dawn was the worst time of day imaginable. Roxanne's call hadn't fazed him; he was still snoring with his body curled nimbly like a cats. His hair was matted back, and his mouth hung slightly open. Kayse smirked sleepily. If he had a tail, it would probably be twitching.

Shoving the blankets off her legs, Kayse jumped up and changed into a fresh outfit. Tight leather pants, a loose white blouse constrained by a worn brown vest, and leather boots that laced up to her knees suited her just fine. They were comfortable, they were versatile, and they did not constrain sudden movements like Roxanne's dress might. Kayse was built to be a spy; convenience was key.

Once she finished dressing, Kayse grabbed her jewelry and stared at her reflection in the broken mirror that was propped on a three-legged table. Two beaded necklaces came to rest around her neck. She slipped two silver rings on her left hand that held emergency reserves of magical energy, checked her feather earrings (they were, as always, perfect), and then tried to do something with her bedraggled hair. When the curls absolutely refused to go where they wanted to, she sighed and made her way into the kitchen.

Roxanne pushed a plate of eggs and bread across the counter as Kayse took a seat on one of the stools. The kitchen looked more covered in ash and magical residue than the night before, and the lethargic aura the room gave off ate into the center of Kayse's bones.

She frowned. “Did you get any sleep last night, Roxanne?”

“And miss out on the opportunity to wield unforeseen knowledge? Of course not.” Roxanne took a cloth to the counter and scrubbed at a spot of grease. “Where you used your hours to sleep, I used mine to find answers,” her eyes were suddenly penetrating as she looked up, “and listen to your screams. Another nightmare?”

Kayse blinked. She had another nightmare? Vaguely, she could remember waking up and finding herself inside the cottage – Teagan must have carried her in – but she did not recall dreaming. Then again, this was the case most of the time.

At the puzzled look on her face, Roxanne sighed. “Remind me to start making sleeping potions for you, dear. We will all sleep better that way.” She took her rag and hung it up over a peg, then put her hands on her hips and surveyed the kitchen with a bit of annoyance. “What a mess. My answers better be correct.”

Kayse forked the last of the eggs into her mouth and stood up to take her plate over to the far counter. She dipped her plate into the water Teagan had fetched from the stream the previous morning, dried it with a cloth, and put it away in one of the cupboards. She then turned to look at Roxanne.

“What answers?” She leaned her hip back against the counter and wrapped her arms around her waist. “The men, the piano, the music . . . did it piece together for you?”

Roxanne thought for a moment, then motioned for Kayse to follow her over to the kitchen table. She planted her hands on either side of a large map and swayed her weight from one bare foot to the other. Kayse stood across from her and looked at the map upside-down. It was a huge sketch of the empire. Red and blue ink spilled across cities and town in a cluster of words and names. Mountains rose from the paper as if alive, and the seas that roiled at the edges of the parchment churned and crashed against rocky coasts.