The grids and aimless wandering eventually led us to street twelve where a small building stood, but something more than that entranced me. Its walls were wood. Snow covered grass that surrounded the ground around it. From the multitude of windows, there seemed to be many rooms and with so many rooms, it had to be an inn.
“Um, Dill, I know I should have learned my lesson about strange taverns at Hans’s Haven, but do you think that we could stay here?” My eyes followed the smoke rising out of the chimney. My chest ached at the sight. To myself, I murmured, “It looks so much like home.” The longing in my voice surprised even me.
Dill patted my shoulder. “You’re homesick. We can stay there. It shouldn’t be too expensive in the outskirts of the city.” He changed direction toward the building.
As we approached, I noticed a vacancy sign displayed in the window. The smell of food wafted out of the back of the building. I inhaled deeply. When we stepped in, the door jingled. My boots clacked against the floor. “Excuse me?” I called out meekly.
An old rumpled woman entered the lobby. She studied Dill and me. “A room?” She snapped. When my mouth widened at her manners, she snarled, “Don’t just gape at me, wide mouthed; answer, girl.” As I opened my mouth to try again, she turned to Dill.
“Actually, we might prefer a meal first.” He dropped a few Crahavacs in her hand and followed her into the bar room. With a groan, he sat in the closest barstool to the fire.
I sat beside him, studying the wood grain of the bar and absorbing the heat of the fire beside us. My eyes wandered toward the other visitors who crowded square tables. “I’m sorry,” I muttered to Dill, dropping my knapsack to the floor. My mittens fell atop.
“What for?” Concern filled the indistinct line between his iris and pupil.
I shook my head. “I sounded like an idiot talking to that woman. I feel so useless around you. You splinted my foot. You got us away from the Valiant Villains. You—”
“Oh, hush. You have accomplished much more in this journey than I have. This isn’t my trip, Jenny. It’s yours. And tomorrow morning, you are heading to the archives.”
My face fell. “Do you mean to say that I’m going alone? I can’t even distinguish the streets much less navigate them! When I said I wanted to go alone, I didn’t think…”
The voice of the innkeeper interrupted me, “Bah, there’s too much work. I ought to hire a hand.” With a slam, she dropped two sloppy bowls in front of Dill and me.
Tentatively, I dipped a spoon into it. My cold fingers fumbled with the silverware. The steam emanating from the bowl nearly ached as it brushed my face. Her words sparked an idea. “Excuse me, ma’am?” I placed the spoon down carefully and peered up.
The woman cackled, “Ah, so she can speak. What do you want, girl?”
Before I could think better of it, I asked, “Were you serious about hiring a hand?”
“Perhaps if someone with experience were to desire the position, yes, but I am not in the mood to train someone.” Her frizzy grey curls shook with scorn.
I smiled, almost smugly. “My father owns an inn and I have been helping him since I could walk. Would that qualify as experience enough?”
“Hmpt.” Despite her groan, her eyes lit up thoughtfully. “Your wages?”
I shrugged, “Perhaps, just living quarters and meals for two and maybe a wee bit of change to spend? A few Crahavacs at most, I understand how tight business is in the off-season. My payment does not require a schedule either, whenever you can.”
YOU ARE READING
Sleepwalker
FantasyBook one. I'd spent my entire life without a mother. But, when professors come to my father's inn, a cloaked figure known only as Sleepwalker begins to torment me with thoughts of her. When these dreams become too malicious, my father sends me off t...
