13: Shuteye

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There wasn't much that would ever make me jealous of a demon prince, but the more stately halls Shail and I walked through, the more grey stairs we climbed, I just knew the view from this high had to be phenomenal. Prince Chiro had given instructions on the way to his chambers, and for the most part everything was pretty straightforward. We'd made it somewhere near the King's tower, if I was plotting our progress correctly on my mental map of the castle. The Prince had his own tower, which I suppose made sense. If I were him, I'd put as much space as possible between myself and the rest of the palace denizens. 

This particular hall was filled with the cold air of night, an invisible chill that rushed past enormous, dusty portraits of creatures more beast than man. Their dull eyes seemed to follow me as I walked along, headed forward towards a single torch and a black, final staircase to Chiro's lofted bedroom.

A sharp screech, like metal on rocks, cut through the hall. White sparks flickered past the corner of my eye. Cringing, I covered my ears and whipped around, ready to yell at Shail to bite someone's ass.

But the dreadful source of sound was the crag cat himself. Beneath the red eyes of a bear-nosed hairy, bear-nosed king. Shail scratched the cold tile. For just a second his eyes met mine, reflective in the flickering torchlight, and then he turned, squatted, and pooped. Moments later, he trotted after me, content to leave behind a putrid, steaming pile.

"Oh, come on," I sighed, throwing my hands into the air. Ears erect, Shail rumbled off a purr. I should have known better than to assume I could take a wild animal into a palace and expect it to be house trained. Holding my nose and feeling bad for whoever had to remove that, I fled a little quicker toward the dimly lit stairs. I even removed the first torch from its metal sconce and held it near my nose, so the smoky scent could burn the acrid odor from memory. 

There was only a single way up and down the stairs. They were wide enough, sure, but a creature like Shail had trouble winding his way to the top. The cat's tail frequently banged the walls, and he kept his head pressed into my back, like my aching legs were moving too slowly. With the cat breathing on my neck, it was a relief to catch my breath against the Prince's pale oak door.  There was another sconce here, but it remained unlit. I set the unlit torch to the ground, an carefully slid mine into the now unoccupied space.

The door to his chambers was unlocked. When I'd asked after a key Chiro had given me a puzzled frown. Why would a great warrior like him need a lock and key? No one could move the damn heavy door without alerting him. All he needed was a few seconds, and that door was enough. 

Shoving it open with a huff, I stepped into the open room. Shail bustled past me.

For a prince, Chiro's room was terribly unadorned. The torchlight disappeared as the door creaked closed, but the bouncing orange glow would have made no difference to the room's simplicity. The wall's were bare. The bed was plain, with four posters but none of the silky trappings of mine. An elaborately carved desk stood facing in one corner.  What appeared to be an oil lamp was fixed to one corner. There was a chair for the desk, but apart from that, nothing but a couple dressers. Snout pressed to the floor, Shail walked off to sniff around the corners and I headed for the double doors that opened, I presumed, onto a wide balcony. 

The wind at this height brought the goosebumps onto my arms as I leaned against the cool stone and stared out into the night. From this height, the grassy plains were a rustling, whispering sea. Far from us, lights twinkled and glowed on the horizon, distorting the sky with a yellow haze, like Anchorage in a crisp twilight. Did ancient cities and palaces illuminate the horizon? Was there enough light for that, enough people in this twisted realm? 

When the wind's tickle became more of a bite, and thick clouds rolled across the plains, I turned inside, hungry and hopeful that Prince Chiro would soon return. I resisted the urge to rifle through his desk. The temptation struck me to muss up his bed, but he was doing me a favor and Shail had deposited a present in the hall below. So instead I found a comfortable, dusty spot on the floor and called my crag cat to me. Shail cast one long look at the bed. Before he could spring, I put my arms around his neck and pulled him along to my chosen location. The cat grumbled over at me, but sank onto his haunches and finally his belly. His thick hide was  rocky and tough. Not exactly comfortable, but he hummed with a warmth I craved and didn't mind me curled against his back.

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