Climbing out of the covers, she hurried over to the windows. Pushing back one of the curtains, she squinted and raised an arm to block out the glow of the sun. Not that she could see him, of course, but while her eyes were narrowed, she looked for the Grove’s flow of magics. It was a relief to see everything looked normal from here. Such things were always easier to see when one squinted, though she didn’t know why. Even her teachers at the temple had just said that was the way magic worked.
Then again, they’re more or less the same group of people who said there is only ever one Keeper of the Grove at a time. Well, that’s just fine, Saleria decided. Whatever happens, I’ll still be the Keeper and the Guardian. But I am definitely hiring more people to work under me. As soon as I can figure out how to work that into my budget.
One person’s needs, her stipend could cover. She wasn’t really using much of the money she earned as the Keeper right now, though she would eventually need it when she had to retire. Possibly, it could cover a second person, though that would cut into her retirement funds. But I could easily use five or six mages with gardening experience, if not outright Hortimancers . . .
Blessed Kata, I actually have the time to think in the morning? Saleria blinked and turned away from the window. I do! I have time to think . . . Waking up isn’t quite so tedious or awful if I’m allowed to sleep in, is it? She owed Aradin Teral for this kindness, though she wasn’t quite sure how she could repay it. Heh, I owe him for whatever he managed to do to Nannan to get her to agree to let me sleep in . . .
From the smells wafting through the cracks around her door, breakfast wasn’t far off. Donning her unused night tunic, she wrapped her dressing robe around it and headed downstairs just in time to meet Nannan at the bottom of the steps.
“There you are,” her housekeeper said. “I was just about to wake you, since Daranen has already come down for breakfast.” She frowned at Saleria. “I’m not sure it was wise, but I agreed to let you sleep in while that man took your morning walk around the Grove wall. I hope I haven’t made a grievous mistake.”
Saleria smiled; her mood was too good for anything less, given her leisurely start to the day. “I’m sure he’ll be just fine. I think—”
The back door at the far end of the hall opened. Saleria gave up what she had meant to say, instead hurrying down the last few steps so she could see what condition her new partner was in. To her surprise, the man stepping into the house had the tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired visage of Teral, not the slightly shorter, leaner, blond Aradin. She smiled at him all the same.
“Good morning, Teral. And good morning to your Host, too,” she added politely, guessing that either Aradin was somewhere inside the older man, watching and listening, or that he would return shortly. Oddly enough, the scent of mint wafted into the hall, mixing with the spiced fruit sausage and the egg-toast Nannan had made. “How did the morning round go?”
“Some sort of horned, rabbity thing with willow leaves instead of fur,” he recited, counting off on his fingers, “a swarm of bees acting rather agitated in what turned out to be a patch of rage-inducing bleeding hearts, a new species of ambulatory orchid-beetles, and a rather aggressively friendly cross between a fern and a mint plant. Either that, or it was attempting to copulate with me. For our sanity’s sake,” the older Witch muttered, “Aradin and I have agreed to think of it as just being aggressively friendly, and not amatory.”
“Did you drain the northern locus? I forgot to tell you, don’t touch the crystal to the rift,” Saleria added, moving down the hall toward the entrance to the dining hall. The closer she got to him, the stronger the scent of mint became. The stains were subtle, but she thought she could see hints of green along the beige outer layer of his overrobe. “Do you need Nannan to wash your Witchcloak?”
“Yes, I drained it carefully; no, we’ve agreed to go see the laundress in town, since we have far too much laundry at the moment to burden your kind housekeeper with it; and no, you didn’t tell either of us, but Aradin did watch you do it, advised me on the care you took, and thus we avoided it adroitly. The Witchcloak is supposed to be self-cleaning, but sometimes it does require a little scrubbing. We’ll have the laundress look at it, too. If you’ll excuse me, miladies,” Teral added politely, lifting callused hands that showed a few signs of scratch marks, “I also tangled with some sort of rose hybrid while clearing the outer path, and will need to wash up before breakfast.”
Giving both women a slight bow, he turned to the right, not the left, and ducked into the downstairs refreshing room. Behind Saleria, Nannan sighed. Curious, she turned and lifted her brows at her housekeeper.