Meanwhile, Part 5
“So…uh…where is everyone?” Kit’s voice echoed off the walls of the empty hallway – no, it was too grand to be a hallway, she thought. They probably called it a foyer, or an entry hall, or something like that.
“Oh, it is not for me to inquire about the doings of the mighty.” The aged Glimrod was somehow managing to both hobble and glide up the broad staircase, while at the same time turning around to answer Kit. “They are off about their business, and they do not deign to inform the humble Glimrod.”
Kit followed, running her hand along the banister as she climbed the stairs. Was that real gold leaf around the edge? “Oh. Right,” she said absently.
“If the young mistress pleases,” Glimrod oozed, when they reached the top of the stairs, “you may wait here while I go in search of some more suitable attire.” The butler gestured towards a room off the long, carpeted hallway. “Your bath will be ready for you in a few minutes, madame. You may find it through the left-hand door at the rear of the sitting room.”
“Um. Right,” Kit said again. She went through the door into a room that would probably big enough to fit her family’s entire flat into it, keeping her hands carefully folded behind her back. Can’t touch anything, she thought. Half the stuff in here looks like it would break if I breathed on it… And while she didn’t even dare think it, she knew deep down that if she kept her hands off things, it would be easier to resist the urge to slip a gilded knick-knack or two into her pocket.
With a start, she realized that Glimrod was still hovering by the door. “Thank you,” she tried. No, he was still there. “Thank you very much.” Still there, with that can-I-help-you smile on his face. How on earth did you get rid of servants? “Goodbye?”
“Goodbye, mistress,” Glimrod replied, much to Kit’s relief. “I will leave you to your business.”
Kit let out a sigh as he closed the door behind him on the way out, and then another one as she sat down on the sofa. Divan. Chaise. Whatever fancy name they would call it in a house like this. She unbuckled her rapier and let her sword belt fall onto the cushions, then started sliding the daggers out of her sleeves and boots.
As the last dagger left her hand, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Instantly, she was on her feet, spinning around with a rapier in one hand and dagger in the other, blazing with fury. “Who’s there? Who is it?” she shouted. She darted this way and that, thrusting out with her sword with a look of wild, angry fear in her eyes.
From out of the nothingness of an empty corner of the room came a voice. “It’s me. I’m sorry.” A moment later, the faint outline of a figure appeared: first a head, then a torso, and then a misty swirl of smoke below that, all a faint translucent blue.
“Who are you?” Kit was still on edge, her voice coming out sharp and angry.
“I’m Stithis.” The bluish figure drifted backwards into the corner, away from the point of Kit’s rapier. “I’m not going to hurt you!” he added hastily, holding up his hands, both to show that he was unarmed and to keep her away. “I just wanted to see who was visiting. I heard the butler say that someone else had come to help out, and I wanted to see who it was.”
“Well, you can see who’s there by coming to the door and knocking!” Kit snapped back. “Don’t you ever do that again!” Only now, as she was coming down off the crest of her anger, did Kit realize just how high she had to look to meet the djinn’s eyes – he was enormous. Slowly, Kit lowered her sword, but she still kept it pointed at the figure in the corner. “You’re one of Father Gavin’s people?” she asked warily. “Helping work against the slavers?”
The djinn nodded, eager to accept the change of subject. “We fought off these awful hags last night. The others should be back soon – they’ll tell you all about it. Lord Alistair just had to…” Stithis stopped himself, remember Alistair’s concern about keeping his identity secret. “He had to deal with some family issues. I went on ahead. They should all be back soon,” he said again, but his hopeful smile was met with a hard, hostile stare from Kit. “In fact, why don’t I go see if they’re back now,” he offered, drifting towards the door as quickly as his insubstantial form could take him.
Very slowly, Kit lowered her sword back to the couch, closed the door behind her (disappointingly, there was no lock), and then headed in to the bathroom (whose door, fortunately, did have a lock).
The bathroom was astonishingly bright, with light from steady, smokeless torches radiating off of dozens of clean, shiny tiled surfaces. The tub was already full of water, with steam rising gently from the surface, and a huge pile of fluffy white towels sat next to it. Despite her lingering anger and nerves from the encounter with Stithis, Kit couldn’t help grinning at the sight. Real warm water! And enough of it to swim in, practically!
She could swim in it, she discovered a moment later when she got in. Or at least, she could submerge herself entirely, with room to spare, and even enough depth for her to blow a few bubbles, when she remembered to hold her breath properly instead of giggling with the pleasure of this amazing luxury. After a few minutes, though – during which the water had not cooled one bit, nor shown any signs of becoming dirty – she started to get down to the business of cleaning off the stains of battle and the grime of living in the docks neighborhood. She grabbed one of the sponges from the side of the bathtub and went to work.
And then she started to feel another sponge, not held by her own hand, moving up and down her back.
She leaped out of the tub, grabbing desperately at a towel. “STITHIS!” she shouted furiously. “I swear, when I find you…”
From the bathtub, a meek, bubbling voice answered, “Who’s Stithis?” A small face appeared, formed out of the water itself, next to a small watery hand that was holding a sponge.
“Who are you? What are you?” Kit’s voice cracked with the strain and shock of yet another strange being appearing out of nowhere.
“I’m the bath,” the bath answered. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. The lady of the house likes it when I help out…”
Kit stared, shaking her head in bewilderment. “You’re the what?”
“I’m the bath,” it explained again. “Called here from the Elemental Plane of Water. The faucet is a small portal, you know.”
“An elemental. In the bath,” Kit repeated, sinking down onto the edge of the tub with weary resignation. “All right. Why not? There are djinn in the corner and I-don’t-know-what at the door being butlers. Why not an elemental in the bath?”
The bathtub made an obliging little ripple. “It sounds like you’ve had a rough day,” it said soothingly. “Come back in. You’ll feel better after you have a nice bath.”
Too overwhelmed to do anything else, Kit nodded. “Yeah, probably.” She flashed one more wary look at the bathtub’s watery face, warning, “Just don’t look, all right?”
“All right,” the elemental agreed, and its eyes closed, dissolving into the gentle ripples of the bath.
Thankfully, the rest of the washing-up process was much less eventful, and Kit emerged several minutes later, entirely clean. After a moment’s careful surveillance of the sitting room door, she decided that there was probably nothing waiting for her on the other side, and ventured out. Glimrod must have come and gone while she was in the bath, because several sets of clothes were laid out on the sofa. She had no idea where he could have found them, but she wasn’t arguing – they were more finely made, and out of better fabric, than she had ever worn in her life. She couldn’t resist admiring herself in the mirror, once she was dressed and her hair tamed into some sort of order. She did clean up well, she thought with a satisfied grin.
And with that, she slipped her lucky rock into the pocket of her new outfit, and went out into the hall to see if the others had returned.