Page 10 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Meara warily moved to the first of the doors, pausing on the threshold.

Glass covered the back wall of the bedroom, revealing swaying branches mottled purple in night.

A bench stretched the length of the windows, piled with pillows and cushions.

Another fireplace stood opposite an oversized canopy bed surrounded by shelves and shelves of books wallpapering the entire room.

Brenna surged past her, entranced by the library.

She ran her delicate fingers over the spines, a smile spreading across her face.

The titles covered a litany of subjects: botany, mythology, history, poetry.

Brenna smiled blissfully, the weight of the day forgotten.

Meara watched her sister relax, and she knew she would do anything to keep her this happy.

“My ladies?” A soft voice called from the sitting room. Meara spun, her hand going to the knife in her skirts. A girl with skin like tree bark stood by the hearth with a tray on her hip.

“Hello,” Brenna said.

“I am Kirrily, and I’m here to help you.” Her voice was light, like wind rather than earth. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Why, thank you. I’m Brenna and this is Meara.”

Raising a hand in greeting, Meara met the dryad’s leaf green eyes. Her sharp ears poked through the long tendrils of brown and green hair cascading down her back. Vines and leaves threaded through the curls.

Meara accepted a mug and breathed in the steam. It smelled familiar, like the lavender tea her mother drank.

Kirrily’s smile was sweet as honey. “Ryles mentioned you would need some clothing, as you were unable to bring any personal possessions. You’ll find soaps, lotions, and combs in the bathing room. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Thank you. I can’t think of anything else,” Meara said, ignoring the sudden urge to scrub the grit from her skin accumulated from two days journeying through the forest.

Brenna sipped her tea. “We really appreciate everything.”

“Of course,” Kirrily said, setting the tray on the table. “Good evening. If you need anything, I’ll be close by.” Her footfalls were silent as she crossed the room and disappeared, the door closing behind her.

Eyeing the set of earthenware dishes on the tray, Meara slid into a seat. The scent of the fae food was unfamiliar but enticing as she eased the lid off a shallow bowl. Dark fruit sat over stewed grains.

Brenna picked up a bundle of silverware and handed her a spoon. Together, they tucked into their supper. Warmth curled through her as she savored the sweetness of plums and cloves.

“Oh, no,” Brenna groaned, slapping her hand over her eyes.

“What?” Meara asked, looking up from her dish .

“This is delicious. I am ruined for our own cooking.” Brenna took another bite and slowly pulled the spoon out of her mouth, her lips stretched in a pleasured grimace. Meara’s exhale blended into a chuckle. As she finished the porridge and moved onto a meat-filled pastry, she had to agree.

Stomachs full, the sisters moved to the bathing room.

A copper tub stood on a stone platform at the end of the room.

Intricate stained glass depicting falling leaves filled the arched windows surrounding it.

The black patina crisscrossing over the gemstone glasswork gave a sense of privacy from the outside world.

A polished faucet curved over the edge like the neck of a swan. Brenna twisted knobs at its side and water poured from the tap. “We should bathe,” she said. “Do you want to go first?”

“No, go ahead.” Meara shrugged, looking over the stretch of wooden counter with a rough edge like the tree had been sliced vertically and left with its natural curves and notches. A basin sat buried in the counter with only the rim sticking up. Another shiny faucet arched over it.

Brenna gasped. “The water is warm!” Frowning, Meara swished her fingers through the stream. It felt like water warmed over a fire. “They must have a hot spring,” Brenna mused.

“Or magic.” Meara flicked her fingers to fling droplets at her sister.

Brenna huffed in response, though the sound was tired and hollow.

She turned her back to Meara and held aside her hair, a silent request that Meara fulfilled, undoing the laces of the calico dress.

As Brenna shrugged her chemise over her head, Meara stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Through the crack, she said, “I’ll be right here if you need anything. ”

“You sound like Kirrily,” Brenna chimed. Water splashed and she let out a dramatic sigh. With an exhausted smile, Meara wandered to the third room.

This bedroom mirrored the first, but instead of books, the walls were covered in glass shadow boxes.

Flowers, moths, and beetles filled the frames, all pinned in place for eternity.

Meara had seen plenty of insects in her days roaming the forest, but seeing them laid out was astonishing.

She walked slowly, taking in the variety of shapes and colors.

Brenna would hate this room, but Meara found it fascinating.

The bathing room opened and Brenna’s voice drifted through the ajar door. “It’s all yours.”

Meara emerged, taking in the fresh, white chemise hugging Brenna’s curves. The stitching was so delicate, it was almost invisible. Her damp hair was already curling over her shoulders even as water soaked into the linen.

“Kirrily left us clothes already.” Brenna held up a matching shift for Meara to take.

“That was expedient,” Meara muttered. Garment in hand, she poured a fresh bath and slipped out of her dress and dirty chemise.

As she stepped into the deepening pool of heated bathwater, she sucked in a breath at the sensation.

It was far warmer than a summer bath at home, stinging her skin at first contact.

Sinking down, she pulled her knees up against her chest and leaned back against the edge of the tub.

The warmth unraveled the tension that lived in her back and shoulders, ebbing away fear and stress until she took a full, deep breath. Steam filled her lungs.

Finding a bar of soap that smelled like pine, Meara scrubbed at her skin and hair until all the dirt and grit was washed away and her scalp tingled. Reluctantly, she pulled the stopper in the tub and watched all the evidence of her filth drain away.

Clay colored towels filled an alcove beside the tub and Meara used one to wipe away the droplets from her skin.

She wrapped it around her hair and squeezed out what moisture she could.

The room’s humidity warmed her skin as she dressed.

The new chemise felt heavenly against her skin, finer than anything she had at home.

Brenna sat perched at the table beside a set of mugs. Kirrily must have taken their supper dishes away when she delivered the clothing. Meara joined her, picking up the comb and working to untangle her hair.

“Try this,” Brenna pressed, pushing the second mug to her. Meara obeyed and tart cider washed over her tongue. Her eyes closed as she savored the spices softened by the apple’s sweetness.

Bodies warmed from bath and drink, the sisters tumbled into bed. It was never a question that they would share a bed, and the insect room remained empty.

The bedding was soft like rabbit fur, and Meara couldn’t help running her hands over the cool, smooth fabric. Brenna let out a contented sigh as she nuzzled into the pillow.

“How are you doing?” Meara whispered. The fire burned down to a mere glow of embers, dancing across Brenna’s tawny skin and goldenrod curls.

She pressed her lips together, conflict etched into the lines of her face. “This feels like a nightmare that has turned into a fantasy.”

“I know we agreed to come here, but we do not know their laws or traditions.” Meara’s cheeks hollowed as she ruminated.

“It’s going to be fine. Mum felt it was safe. And they’ve gone through a lot of trouble to help us if their aim is to harm. And besides, I have magic that can defend us, remember?”

Meara searched the canopy above. “I still can’t fathom that I might have magic too.”

“I feel the same way, and I’ve seen mine.” Brenna’s brows furrowed but a smile warmed her face. “What do you think your magic will be? Fire like me?”

Sighing, Meara drew the coverlet over her shoulders and sank deeper into the mattress. “I don’t know.”

Silence stretched, and Meara let sleep pull her deeper, but before she lost consciousness, Brenna spoke. “So do you think it’s always autumn here? Or is it merely the name?”

Without opening her eyes, Meara replied, “I guess we will find out.”

“We have a lot to learn,” Brenna whispered.

As the firelight faded, the soft bluish moonlight spilled in the wide windows painted the room the darkest lavender.

Outside, the crickets sang their chorus, bats squeaked as they swooped over the treetops, and an owl cooed from a high branch.

The glass tempered these noises into a soothing lullaby as the sisters fell into peaceful sleep.