Page 72 of The Last Slayer
“Please come this way,” Charity said. “We need a final touch.”
There was more? I debated whether or not to tell her to forget it—I really wanted to get the dinner over with—but something in her eyes told me she was going to follow what Nahemah had ordered her to do regardless of my objections. Arguing would only delay things. I went with her to a small vanity with a large mirror and a chair with both arm and footrests. Lovely yellow-gold trim outlined the ivory furniture, and several atomizers and colorful pots and jars lay neatly on the top.
Four more liliths appeared. Each took a hand or foot and started trimming and buffing my nails. Oh god. This was surreal. When you’re a hunter, you don’t do girly things as a rule. Gotta show the boys you’re as tough as they are. And I’d never wasted money on things like manicures or pedicures. It seemed silly—long nails just break when you’re swinging a sword.
While my cuticles were being ruthlessly cut and trimmed, Charity began applying makeup to my face. She added a hint of rose to my cheeks and cherry to my lips and drew a thin line around my eyes with dark kohl.
“You have such lovely blue eyes, like a wintry ocean. I wonder who gave them to you.” She ran a red wooden brush through my hair—amazingly, there were no tangles—until it shone like silk. “And such beautiful hair. So thick and lustrous.”
I began to deny it out of habit, but stopped myself. I needed to adopt a new protocol for social behavior. WWVD: What Would Valerie Do?
“Thank you,” I said. “Yours is lovely as well.” It was, after all.
Charity parted my hair six ways and braided each section. Afterward, she rolled everything up into a complicated but elegant do. It reminded me of a medieval princess’s I’d seen in a special exhibition at the National Gallery a couple of years back. She had been riding a white horse, and a translucent veil had covered her head.
Charity finally stood back. “Is this acceptable?”
I stared at myself. The woman in the mirror blinked when I blinked. Her cherry lips parted slightly in awe. She glowed—her finger and toenails a shimmering blue the exact color of her eyes, the makeup enhancing her already demigoddess-perfect face. Who was this stunning stranger? Maybe it was a dream, and any second I would wake up and realize I was still my usual drab self, all frizzy brown hair and uneven complexion.
“It’s…amazing.”
Charity smiled. “We’re glad to have pleased you, milady.” She spritzed lavender scent on me. “Now, it’s time to join everyone in the lyceum.”
“Just let me get the old dress to give back to Nahemah.” Before Charity could protest, I went to the bathing room and grabbed Leh’s necklace.
“Milady, if you please,” she called from the other room, obviously scandalized at the idea of her mistress’s honored guest doing a common chore. “We are happy to take care of everything.”
“All right. If you insist.” I shoved the small vials and chain into my cleava
ge, which was now deep enough to hide everything snugly. I came back out to where the liliths were waiting. “I’m ready.”
Thirteen
I followed Charity to the main hall. Without the full moon to dull their brilliance, sparkling stars dominated the dark velvet sky. Now that the moon was gone, it was “daytime” in the Lunar Garden. And Nahemah rested during the day, except on special occasions like today when she had guests to entertain.
The prospect of facing Nahemah knotted my stomach. I took a deep breath and focused on the positive. Like how after the banquet, I would meet Enmesaria. I hoped she wasn’t as weird as Nahemah. I’d had well over my weekly quota of strange supernaturals.
As we entered, several samaels in silver and white uniforms sang in a tenor chorus. Liliths in matching dresses played harps. The melody soothed my nerves. Most of the men and women looked very young. Were their backgrounds like the seamstress who’d made my dress? Families so poor they had to sell their talented sons and daughters to get by?
Or had they thrown away everything for eternal youth and beauty?
No natural wind visited the Lunar Garden, but another group of samaels and liliths created a breeze with large, emerald-encrusted fans. Their movements were precise and in unison. With each stroke, the aroma of exotic spices and rich sauces, fresh fish and meat, vegetables and fruits drifted toward me. My mouth watered. I hadn’t had anything substantial since I’d left Besade.
A small fairy dragon bowed at my entrance. His gossamer wings shimmered in a blur of gold and violet.
“Welcome to the lyceum, Lady Ashera. I am Weston, caretaker of the Lunar Garden.”
“Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand.
He swooped in, dipped and kissed it. There was no trembling with this one.
Weston was of the same dimensions as Toshi, but his scales shone a glossy blue-black, and his eyes gleamed with confidence. He was probably very successful with the lady lizards.
“I can hardly wait for dinner,” I said. “The food smells delicious.”
He bowed. “You overpraise,” he said modestly, but his wings beat a little faster.
Hmm. Maybe all fairy dragons prided themselves on their domestic abilities. Too bad they didn’t work for mortals. I knew several who could have used a helping claw or two.
