“And I need all the plant-knowledgeable help I can get,” Saleria admitted. “Right, then. Supper is served shortly after sundown. Nannan will have it waiting for us—I told her you’d be dining with us tonight.” She started moving down the path toward the wall and her home, then paused to flash him a teasing smile. “If you do good work, I’ll even let you move into one of the guest rooms, and pay you in room and board.”
He chuckled. “What, I’m not going to be paid in solid coin?”
“It’s holy work, Holy Brother,” Saleria reminded him, her tone mock-pious. She spread the fingers of her free hand, her gaze lifted toward the dark, half-clouded sky and the stars that were starting to show. “The Gods pay us in ways we cannot even begin to conceive.”
A hastily lifted hand didn’t quite hide the “—horseshit,” he mock-coughed . . . but he did grin at her when he finished mock-clearing his throat.
She grinned back. “Yes, I do know it’s a load of bollocks. That’s what High Prelate Nestine told me when she said I was being assigned to apprentice the previous Keeper. I insisted on a high salary anyway . . . and I’m just as sick and tired of hearing it as you are. But I can afford to keep you in my employ, so long as you do not exaggerate your expenses.”
“Room and board, and a modest stipend for supplies—most of which will be left here when my work is done—will cover my expenses nicely,” he reassured her. “The rest can be negotiated.”
SEVEN
“More spinach, Aradin?” Nannan asked. Or rather, pressed, since she was already holding out the bowl to him.
(Ugh, not more of that sauce,) Teral muttered in the back of the younger Witch’s mind. (I only get half of your sensations when I’m not in control, and even I think it’s too vinegary to eat.)
(Agreed, but one must be tactful,) Aradin thought back. Which amused him, since it was normally the elder of the two urging politeness and diplomatic caution. Smiling slightly, he demurred, “No, thank you; I appreciate the generosity, but I’d rather not overeat.”
“Overeat?” Nannan scoffed, eyeing him. “You’re nothing but a thin pole! Can you not afford an occasional haunch of meat in your travels?”
(I think it’s a good thing Priestess Saleria spends so much of her days on her feet, or she’d end up overstuffed on this woman’s cooking,) Teral observed dryly.
(To be fair, everything has been quite good, except the sauce on the greens,) Aradin pointed out. Aloud, he merely said, “I do have to walk back to the inn this evening. I’d rather not waddle.”
“Hm. It’s a good thing you’re not staying here,” the housekeeper asserted. She set the glazed pottery bowl on the polished wooden table with a clack. “It just wouldn’t be proper!”
Ever since her nightmare this morning, Saleria hadn’t felt like her normal self. Part of her wondered if it had been sent by Kata and Jinga as a pre-warning of Guardian Kerric’s news about the Netherhell demons. It also felt like a wake-up call to her whole life. The normal smooth running of the Keeper’s duties had been deeply disrupted today, but it made her feel better, not worse. Like the wake-up was needful, even necessary. But her housekeeper’s attitude was threatening to sour that better-world feeling.
Sighing, Saleria put down her fork and cut off her housekeeper the moment the older woman drew in a breath to say more. “Enough, Nannan. The choice of who stays in the Keeper’s house is up to the Keeper. Last I checked, that was me, not you. If I should decide it would better suit my needs to have Witch Aradin Teral stay with us, then stay with us he shall.
“I trust I have made myself clear.” She did not make it a question.
Nannan opened her mouth, thought for a moment, then closed it and subsided. Satisfied, Saleria decided to turn the dinner conversation to work. Normally, she refrained, as Nannan grumbled that such things weren’t appropriate at the dining table whenever Saleria tried to discuss various petitions with Daranen, but tonight, Saleria did not care.
“Now that we have some goals outlined—fixing the flaws in the Grove’s containment of the rift-magics, undoing all the amalgamations of plants and animals, and investigating the sap pools—what materials or furnishings will you need installed in the Bower for your work?” she asked Aradin. “I was thinking perhaps you might want a tent, or a shelter of some sort. It’s been hot and dry the last few days, but it might turn to rain without warning.”
“I hadn’t thought about the rain, but I think I’d like to examine the Bower structure itself, first,” Aradin said, reaching for his water goblet. “There may already be some sort of weather-sheltering shielding on it, or a way to incorporate such spells into the existing structure. That would be the least intrusive solution to any weather problems.”