Chapter 11: Part 3
I ran the water as hot as it would go. As the bathroom filled with steam, I stared at myself in the mirror. More dirt was layered atop my busy gardener look. The little mascara I wore was smeared beneath my eyes in dark halfmoons. Smudges of dried blood clung to my neck. At least Whisker had healed the wounds he inflicted before they could scar.
Twisting around in the mirror, I checked to see if any scars covered my back. The only mark tainting it was a tattoo on my shoulder blade of three lines—two blue flanking a red line. The line edges were soft with uneven coloring, as if someone had dipped their fingers in paint and wiped it on my skin. The simple design belied the weight of the meaning behind it. I hated and loved the tattoo at the same time.
I stepped into the water. My skin quickly turned red beneath the hot stream. I scrubbed everything three times, used half a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, and swore I could still smell him on me. I kept scrubbing until my skin felt raw and thought of nothing beyond ridding myself of Whiskers’s scent until my mental stability returned.
When I finished, I slid into sweats and shirt that I kept at Helt’s house for emergencies like this and started back for the kitchen.
“I said no, Pethany. I will assign another team to this task,” Helt said.
“Do you have time to?” There was a childish whine in Peth’s voice. “Come on, Georgie will be so mad if you give this to someone else.”
“After the night she had, she can take at least a day off.”
I rounded the corner, scrunching my dark brown hair in a towel. “Sounds like things are starting to pick up around here. What’s the job?” I was awfully proud of how level my voice was. There was nothing to fear anymore. The pragmora knot never took hold. I was free, free to find more mischief and evil villains to harass.
Helt’s lips thinned into a line. “Don’t you need to return to your work site in Keadan? You are on a deadline to finish that treehouse.”
I hung the towel on the back of the stool and leaned on the counter. If I needed anything at that moment, it was something to put my mind to beyond building fancy treehouses for the wealthy. “We are ahead of schedule with that project, aren’t we, Peth?”
“Yep. Tell her the mission, Helt.”
He lifted his eyes to the sky, praying the Core would grant him strength. I had told him not to bother praying; the Core did what the Core wanted to do regardless of what anyone requested. “My informants have reported there will be a meeting between Caspella Broshot and each of the territories,” he explained.
I whistled. “Sounds like a big deal.”
“It does.”
“Sounds like something we should have our ears tuned into.”
“It does.”
“Sounds like something your best covert team should be assigned.”
He sighed. “Fine. If you two and Jik are up to it—”
I plopped myself into the stool, face serious. “Tell me what I need to know.”