Chapter Three, Part Two.

I woke up a few hours later. It was midday, and the sun was bright, casting lines of light on the floor through the gap in the drapes. A few hours of rest and I felt so much more alert… I got up and smoothed the covers out. Time to explore. Well, time to explore after I cleaned up a bit. There was an old-fashioned wash basin sitting on a small table, with a mirror hung on the wall above it. I washed my face and swished some water round in my mouth. A toothbrush and some toothpaste would have been better, but I had to make do with what I had. I put my jacket back on and pulled my boots on, then left the room, shutting the door behind me.
Even though the stone was like what I imagined would be in an ancient castle, it wasn’t drafty or dim at all. More light shone through the abstract stained glass than what normally could be expected. I couldn’t explain the lack of a draft, though… It would take a lot of time and work to make sure the building was sealed against the cold breezes outside. It was one weird work of architecture, for sure.
Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed me from behind. One arm wrapped around my waist, pulling my arms tight against my sides, and another snaked across my shoulders, pulling me close to whoever grabbed me.
“Good morning,” crooned a somewhat familiar male voice at my ear, warm breath on my cheek. I didn’t respond. “Aww, what’s the matter? Did I frighten you?”
I answered his question by digging my long nails into his legs behind me. He jumped back, giving me the opportunity to turn and backhand him across the face. The sound of my hand connecting with his cheek echoed in the hallway.
“Morning, Rafael. Did you sleep well?” I smirked, hand stinging behind my back.
He cracked his neck –what a gross habit- and smirked at me. “Only as well as you did, milady. No one can rest properly when a delicate rose as your majesty sleeps fitfully.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he bowed in a melodramatic gesture.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “Drop the act. It reeks worse than the boys’ locker room at the end of sixth period.”
“Your suspicious wound me,” he moaned, clasping a hand to his heart with a gasp.
“Did you have something to say to me or are you just here to be obnoxious?” I snapped.
“I merely wanted to wish you luck, Lady Athaliah of the Stinging Backhand.”
“Ha, funny. Thanks, I guess.” Annoyed by his false formality, I turned to leave.
“You’re going to need it,” he said in a sing-song voice. “The Trial’s a bitch.”
“I deal with you on a regular basis, don’t I?” He chuckled as I walked away.
“Don’t get lost, or you’ll be late. First impressions are very important.”
I replied with a rude, one-fingered salute.

God only knows why Rafael annoyed me so much. I probably would have found him attractive if I didn’t want to knock his head from his shoulders ever time he spoke to me. Whatever, it’s not like it really mattered one way or another.
I paused to examine a tapestry hung on a nearby wall. It was a story about wolves, but I couldn’t tell much else. Some parts were faded and threadbare. While I stared at it, trying to discern the storyline, someone ran into me. I stumbled, almost falling. A bunch of heavy books fell to the ground.
“Aw crap, I’m so sorry!” A petite girl –obviously a wolf from her shoulder-length brown hair, light skin, and hazel eyes- bent to pick them up. “I was reading and I didn’t see you there.”
I crouched to help her. “It’s fine. I’ll live.” The books were old, with thick, well-worn covers. She stood up, fixing her glasses and looking at me.
“Ah! Athaliah. It’s nice to actually meet you.” She shifted her books to one arm and offered a hand. Her grip was unusually strong for being so tiny.
“How did you know my name?” Everybody seemed to these days.
“I’m on the Council.” She smiled. “The Memory Keeper, Dionisia.”
“Ohh. Aubrey told me about you.”
She nodded. “I thought he might. Well, I’m sorry, but I have to be going. Important Council-like business to attend to,” she said, making a face.
I stepped aside. “Of course.”
“See you tonight.”
As she walked away, I returned to examining the tapestry. Figures that someone was going for the dark-ages look. The thought struck me that I wanted to see Aubrey again. This place wasn’t telling me anything, and I wanted to know what lay ahead. He was the only one who seemed to know what was going on. I came upon the council doors. Maybe they would open for me, too. Replicating Vera’s actions from the day before, I breathed on the door, palms flat on the wood. Rock ground against rock, and I stepped back. A muscular, ghostly figure with a sword materialized in front of me, and before I could react, he had the tip at my throat. I stood motionless.
“Identify yourself,” he commanded, in a voice that sounded like that of a thousand men, all chorusing the same order. Acting on some unknown instinct, I replied, “Athaliah, daughter of Joche and heiress to the Cavailier line.”
His wrist twitched, and a couple of drops of my blood snaked down the blade. The metal took on a red tint as the individual droplets spread out over it. He paused, examining it, then sheathed the blade, bowed, and disappeared into the air. The doors grated open.
That was terrifying.
I stepped into the room, and the doors shut. Tongues of fire flickered to life one by one in the lamps mounted on the walls. What was I doing here? I sat, pondering the question. In the unlit gloom behind the table, a door opened and, to my surprise, Aubrey stepped out.
“Athaliah!” he said, obviously as surprised as I was. “What are you doing in here?”
“I… was actually wondering the same thing.”
“How did you get in ? “
“I breathed on the door and a guy with a big sword cut my neck, and disappeared, and then the door opened so I came in.”
“Oh.”
“Um…Yeah. Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“No.”
“…Fine.”
“You’ll understand more after the Trial.”
I made a face.