“Stop it. You’ll soften me so much that none of my friends will recognize me.”
Laughing, we ease our horses to a stop outside the double set of entry doors and dismount.
Argos moves the reins over Fernie’s broad head, then ties her to a post shaped like a tree bared for winter. “Tully, I want to say… I’m sorry you were raised in such a cold environment.”
“It wasn’t all bad.” I tie Orion next to Fernie. “Grandwitch fed me, taught me, and told me wonderful stories.”
Argos takes his satchel and the sack of money from the saddle. “I guess like most folks, she was complicated.”
“Good and bad,” I say. “But maybe a little more bad than is good.”
He opens the door, which seems very odd to me. A place like this usually has a liveried guard or at least a staff member to announce visitors. I suppose he wasn’t exaggerating that all the staff had gone.
The entry hall boasts a wide hearth on the far wall, a long table like the one at Rustion’s, and painted murals of minotaur history. Swords flash in silver thread, minotaur horns are like spears in the chaos, and a castle with rounded turrets covers the background.
“This is amazing.” My voice echoes off the high ceiling.
A female minotaur walks out of a shadowed corridor. She wears her white hair in a twist that sits between her horns. Her clothing looks three sizes too big.
“Argos?”
He hurries over and pulls her into a gentle hug. Her thin fingers grip his cloak and she shuts her eyes, obviously overwhelmed at his unannounced visit.
“Mother, I want you to meet my intended, Mistress Tully of Leafshire Cove.”
I give her a respectful nod and smile. “Nice to meet you.”
She comes forward and takes my hand. Her fingers are like ice. “Hello. I’m Mathilde. When did you two meet? How long has it been? Forgive me. My head is foggy all the time.”
“You aren’t eating enough.” Argos digs in his satchel and produces a hunk of what appears to be Kaya’s pumpkin bread. “Eat this while I tell you everything.”
She complies and we take a seat at the long table. The room is colder than the outside, so I start a fire with my wand. It won’t do much though because I can’t produce wood to burn out of thin air and there are only two sad logs stacked inside.
Argos tells his mother everything about the khymeia, the mirror, how we met, and so forth. At his conclusion, he lifts the sack of money I gathered onto the table and loosens the tie to show the gold, copper, and silver inside.
Mathilde’s hands go to her mouth and her eyes shine. “Tully, you did this?”
Chapter 29
Tully
Iremove my hat and smooth my hair, trying not to picture this grief-stricken female alone in this all-too-quiet manor house. The ghost of her past has to be stealing her appetite.
“It was the whole town,” I explain. “I kept your privacy and didn’t explain the situation, but they gave anyway. I live in a special place.”
“You must. I can’t even…” She touches the tiny treasure trove and then meets Argos’s gaze. “The king’s collector is set to come today at sundown.”
“That’s perfect,” I say, glad that this family is finally having some good luck.
There’s a brisk knock at the door. Argos and Mathilde rise as an orc in the king’s livery walks in—all confident stride and no polite requests to enter like he owns the place. Not too far off, I guess, but he doesn’t need to act like such a dick about it.
Crossing my arms, I discreetly bespell his belt to come loose. He stops and grabs at the buckle with a grunt. Redoing the belt, he straightens and glares.
“I am Sir Cessair and I represent King Raulfian. If you don’t have the funds today, I will move in tomorrow to run the estate for His Majesty.”
Argos’s eyes widen and he looks to Mathilde. “Today?”
Mathilde pulls her shawl tight around her bony shoulders. “He has been saying that for a month.”
