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"Knock knock. Anybody home?" Rook tapped lightly on the door and waited for a response. When none came, she pushed at it, and it creaked as it swung open.
Inside the room, she could hear the voice of their newest recruit, Emmrich Volkarin, and a hissing squeak that had to be his skeletal construct, Manfred. They were in the midst of what sounded like a heated argument.
Rook decided to come back to welcome him—them?—later, but even as she was turning to go, Manfred's urgent hiss squeak called to her.
"Oh. Rook! I'm sorry, have you been here long? Manfred is insisting that the Compendium of the Dead be placed on the bottom shelf, even though it properly belongs on the top shelf."
Rook raised an eyebrow. "Alphabetical order? He can spell?"
"No …" Emmrich glanced at Manfred, frowning thoughtfully. "Well, possibly. But no, the Compendium belongs on the top shelf so that it is easier to reach."
"Maybe for you." Manfred was about her height, and Emmrich had a good six inches on both of them.
He chuckled. "Perhaps you're right. Still …" Fixing Manfred with a stern eye, Emmrich said, "You shouldn't be reading the Compendium anyway. It's far too advanced for you."
"I have a few extra copies, if you need them. I seem to find them everywhere."
"Do you? How interesting. Yes, it was mass printed some years ago. At any rate, you surely did not come in to discuss books."
That one stung. It was true, she was more comfortable with a dagger in her hand, but she read. Occasionally. When there was time. Not to the extent that he must, Rook admitted to herself, surveying the opened crates of books scattered across the room. But then, he had been a professor. Perhaps it was all research.
She realized she hadn't answered him. "I'd be happy to discuss books with you sometime, Professor, but in truth I mostly came in to be sure you were settling in all right."
"Oh, I am, I am. Delightful accommodations. Have you seen the view from the balcony? Beautiful. And please, call me Emmrich."
Rook smiled. "Emmrich." She considered asking him to call her Lina, but it had been such a long time since she'd been called anything but Rook, she wasn't sure she would respond to her given name any longer. It was an odd impulse, anyway. She hadn't thought about asking Harding to call her Lina, or Lucanis, or … any of the others.
She put that whole question aside to worry about later. "I'm glad you like the room. It … suits you, somehow."
Emmrich nodded, pleased. "It will be an excellent place for my experiments."
"Experiments?" Of course, experiments. The man was a death mage, and a researcher. Rook wondered what those experiments might entail.
Emmrich regretted the word as soon as he had uttered it. No doubt she found him disturbing—so many did. And, he remembered, far too late, that her room was the next one to his. "I promise, they will be very quiet, and … not late at night, so I will not be disturbing your—anyone's rest," he hastened to reassure her.
"Oh. Not much chance of that, anyway."
"Are you not a light sleeper?"
"I'm not much of a sleeper at all, especially recently."
Well, that explained the shadows underneath her clear brown eyes. "If you need a sleep aid—" He saw her eyes widen. "Oh, no, I mean Manfred. Er … he makes an excellent cup of tea."
Rook laughed, a surprisingly light sound for a woman with the fate of the world on her shoulders. "Well, that I might take you up on."
The hint of a lilt that emerged occasionally was charming, Emmrich thought. He wondered what someone like her—a member of the Tevinter underground group the Shadow Dragons, if he understood correctly—was doing here in a construct in the Fade, gathering a team to take down a pair of elven gods. Was there a prerequisite for such a position, or was it something that was laid upon one without warning? Perhaps someday he would ask.
"Thank you for allowing me to join your collective," he said instead.
"Thank you for agreeing. I have a feeling you're going to bring a great deal to the table."
"Well. I certainly hope so. I shall try my best."
"We can't ask for more than that."
He thought they most certainly could. But he appreciated the sentiment.
"I believe Harding is cooking this evening. Something she calls 'lamb and pea stew'? It looks very grey to me, but I'm a bit of a disaster in the kitchen, so I'm hardly one to complain. If there's anything you need, food or supplies, we keep a list in the dining room, and whoever happens to go out into the world takes the list with them and picks everything up. Just … be specific. Lucanis asked for some kind of specialty coffee bean that happened to be spelled the same as an elven root, which is what Bellara bought, and he made coffee out of it … and woke up the next morning as a toad. It took Neve two hours to stop laughing long enough to brew the antidote." Rook laughed again herself, the memory lighting her face and easing the strain there momentarily.
Emmrich took note of the names. He had met the team, briefly, but would have to find time to speak with each of them, to begin building good fellowship. He had missed being part of a team. It was productive, working alone, but he always had the sense that his best ideas were lurking out there, waiting to be unlocked with conversation, the ideas of others. "Thank you for the warning. I will be most careful what I try to brew into a beverage."
"I'd just stay away from Lucanis's coffee altogether. He's quite touchy about it, and it's very strong. If you ever intend to get any sleep, it's wise to stick to tea."
Manfred hissed and squeaked happily.
"He will be happy to keep the entire team supplied with tea, as long as you need him to."
"With an attitude like that, I'm delighted to have him with us." Rook bowed equally to Emmrich and to Manfred before excusing herself.
Emmrich watched the door, bemused, for a long moment before returning to his unpacking.