If a bear could grin, he did. Then, he turned away from her and started walking down a hall made entirely of blue ice. “Come along, faerie. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying. I’m sure you’re tired after such a long journey.”
She wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. Let him think she was a weak woman. It would make everything she might have to do that much easier. Elva followed him silently down the hall and marveled at the magical place he lived.
She looked around at the beauty and tried not to be too impressed. It was difficult when magic had clearly carved the entire building with a hand that knew true beauty. The floor, walls, and ceiling were glass-like in their pristine smoothness. There was something effortless in the glamour.
She suddenly was sad her feet had nails on them. Wherever she walked, this place would be marked. And it wasn’t a place meant to be marked by the likes of her.
Maybe it wasn’t really ice. Elva reached out and trailed her fingers along the wall. They were slick with water when she pulled them away, just as suddenly freezing as the cold air frosted them.
“I wouldn’t touch it too much,” the bear grumbled ahead of her.
How had he seen her touch it? Raising a brow, she pulled her dignity around her as she tucked her hand back into its sleeve. “Why not?”
“The castle has a way of healing itself. I wouldn’t want your finger getting stuck as it rebuilt the ice.” Was it humor she heard in his voice? Or was he simply being gruff?
Elva didn’t know what to think of this creature as she padded behind him. Scáthach made it seem as though he were some cursed man, the kind who deserved what he got. Yet he didn’t seem like the kind of man who would provoke the direst of magics. He seemed…kind.
The bear stopped in front of a door and held his paw out toward the carved ice. “This is yours.”
She peered through the ice, seeing only colored shadows beyond. “You can see right through the walls.”
“You needn’t worry. This isn’t a part of the castle I frequent often.”
Why wouldn’t he want to be around her? He’d asked for her to be here, hadn’t he? She blew out a breath and turned full toward him. “You want to hide me away?”
“If possible.”
“Why ask me to come here then?” Not to mention it would force her to go against what she’d promised Scáthach. She had to be around him to figure out whether or not he was a good person or a threat to the warrior women.
The bear shrugged. “I hope you enjoy your time here. I regret that it is as long as it must be. However, this place will provide for you.”
“This place?” she repeated as he turned around. “Does anyone else live here?”
The bear didn’t stop. Instead, he tossed words over his shoulder as he retreated. “No. It’s just me.”
He rounded a corner and was then gone from her sight. She couldn’t even hear his nails clicking on the ice floors.
What in the world had she gotten herself into? Elva hefted her pack over her shoulder more firmly and pushed the door open with her back. She was going to have to make more straps like this. The boots she wore now were good for travel, but they’d quickly blister her feet. Anything else, and she’d slip on the floors and likely not be able to get up again.
She turned into the room and stopped. Shock nearly made her jaw drop open.
Ice pillars created a masterpiece of a bed. Four posters anchored into the floor and ceiling. The frame of the bed was made of white ice, swirled with bubbles like a raging waterfall had frozen in place. Furs were piled high in the center and what looked like a mattress was beneath them.
No fireplace. No candles. Nothing to heat up the room as the sun dipped below the horizon.
In fact, there was nothing else in the room at all. Just the bed and ice walls.
Perhaps that was the bear’s motive. He was going to freeze her to death. She’d wake up in the morning with her eyelashes frozen shut and the great beast gnawing on her leg.
The mere idea made shivers dance down her spine. Or perhaps that was simply the cold finally getting to her. She hadn’t brought nearly enough warm clothes for this. But then again, Elva didn’t have that many warm clothes. She was from the warmest part of the faerie realm. Her own belongings were made for sun-drenched revelries.
Sighing, she tossed her pack onto the ground beside the bed. The furs called out to her, but she wanted to explore a little more before she was tempted to let the warmth sink into her bones. There was something going on in this castle, and she needed to find out.
Elva watched the ice walls for movement. Seeing nothing beyond, she tiptoed to the door and opened it slightly.
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The voice came from the other side of the ice. Even though she hadn’t seen anyone just a second ago, now, there was a smudge of darkness directly in front of her door.
This wasn’t the bear, yet he’d said no one else inhabited the castle.
Elva furrowed her brows. “And you are?”
“Clurichaun.”
The creature needed to say no more to make sure she stayed in her room. A clurichaun? Really? The bear kept poor company. First the bodach and cailleach, ancient buffoons who were simply a waste of time, and now this? She thought leprechauns were bad.
Clurichaun were nothing more than the drunkard cousins of the gold-obsessed faeries. Instead of spending their time creating pots of gold, hunting down the shiniest objects they could find, the clurichaun spent every hour
