Page 25 of Echo North
The book-mirrors. The bauble room. The laughing, shrieking fire. I nodded and climbed on.
“All the rooms exist, but none of themhere,if you understand me. They are never in the same order unless you command the house to make them that way.”
“Command the house?” Roses nodded at us in the breeze, vines twining up a trellis set against the hill. I got the feeling they were dancing to music I couldn’t hear.
“If you would like to see the conservatory, you must simply tell the house ‘Conservatory,’ and that is what you will find behind the next door.”
That must have been why the wolf had yelled “garden” after we left the bound door. “But how did the roomsgethere?”
“The … person who … arranged …” He growled, the words not coming out, then tried again. “A collector amused to gather bits of things … she … likes meshed them all together. A room here. A … life … there.”
I frowned. “Her” again. “Someone with great magic chose things to bring here. Gathered by … enchantment?” The word felt like ash in my mouth.
“Yes.”
We had climbed nearly to the top of the terraced steps. Around a bend in the path, a waterfall spilled from the brow of the hill. The wolf slipped through it, disappearing behind a curtain of spray.
I followed, holding my breath at the touch of cold water on my skin, and then I was through. A cozy room lay hidden beyond, a pair of armchairs facing out toward the waterfall. Between them stood an end table that sported a lamp and an ancient-looking tea set with chips in the china.
“But whoisshe?” I pressed.
He clambered up into one of the chairs, sitting on his haunches and draping his paws over the arm like someone’s overgrown house pet. Donia would have a conniption if the wolf sat on her furniture like that.
I tucked myself into the other chair.
“She is … the wood is …” The wolf looked at me, his sorrow palpable. “The wood is under her will, as is the house. But I can’t … I can’ttalkabout … in this house.… ” He looked at me helplessly.
I thought about the way I could barely say “enchantment.” “Youcan’ttalk about her. Not here.”
He nodded.
“And the gatekeeper? The North Wind?”
“My guard.”
“Then you’re a prisoner.”
If the wolf was human I swear he would have shrugged. “Of a sort.”
“Then what am I?”
“You are my guest. The house’s next potential caretaker.”
“And have you had … guests … before?”
The waterfall roared; the air in the cave grew suddenly cold.
The wolf’s eyes found mine. “It has only ever been you, my lady.”
I unfolded myself from the chair, and paced over to the waterfall. I plunged my hand into it; icy cold seared through me. I blinked and saw my father, holding his lantern high in the snowy wood. Looking for me. Waiting for me. Fearing the worst.
The wolf padded up beside me. Why did I still feel drawn to him?
“I will teach you how to care for the house. How to command it. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid of the house.” I realized it was true.
“Are you afraid of me?”
