Page 108 of Dhampira

I’d dozed in a chair near the hearth, images of Vander and Lorcan forming in my head.

Delphine worked faster, shoving pins into my braids. “You don’t want to keep Master Iggleboddle waiting.”

“Who is he?”

Rapid knocking rang out—and then continued. “I’m busy!” a gruff voice called through the door.

“Almost done,” Delphine breathed, shoving the last pin into place. Equal parts confused and alarmed, I rose from the mirror as she hurried to the door and opened it.

A short, round man with a bushy mustache and a halo of white, fluffy hair filled the doorframe. His trousers and jacket were a deep blue velvet. A pair of golden spectacles perched on the end of a pointed nose. His ears were even more pointed, the tips sporting more white, fuzzy hair.

“Want me to get paint and canvas?” he demanded.

My confusion grew. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re staring. If you’re that enamored, you can keep a painting of me on your mantel.”

I looked at Delphine, who watched the little man with an anxious expression. When I turned back to him, he propped his fists on his hips.

“You want oils or watercolors?”

“I…”

“Come with me,” he snapped, then spun and stomped away.

Delphine rushed to my side and shepherded me to the door. “Don’t delay, Your Highness.”

“I’m a very busy man!” the gruff voice floated from the corridor.

“Go!” Delphine insisted, shoving me over the threshold.

Confusion mounting, I hurried after Iggleboddle. Gods, was that his first or last name? And what was he?

He waddled ahead, his hair like a cloud around his ears. Grabbing my skirts, I jogged to catch up.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

Iggleboddle huffed and kept walking, his spectacles in danger of slipping off his nose as he led me through the Drakhold.

More questions hovered on my tongue, but I pressed my lips together before I could voice them. Whatever the little man’s purpose, he didn’t seem dangerous.

Although Rasimir hadn’t seemed dangerous the first time I met him.

I cleared my throat. “Where are we—?”

“No questions,” he barked, pausing before a wooden door that rose to my shoulders. He yanked it open and disappeared inside, his voice trailing him. “Gown off, up on the platform.”

My heart skipped a beat. Gown off? I spun and started back down the corridor.

A small dog with shaggy golden fur bounded around the corner, high-pitched barks spilling from it as it charged toward me. I stumbled back and then gasped as it bit my hem and tugged me toward the door.

“Stop it!” I hissed, yanking at my skirt. “I’ve seen cats larger than you!”

The dog growled as it kept tugging, its tail beating like a propeller. It was stronger than it looked, and I had no choice but to duck to avoid smacking my head on the doorframe. As I hunched, another wave of shock crashed through me.

Because the dog’s fur wasn’t fur at all. It was hundreds of…measuring tapes? They clicked and clattered as he drew me through the door and into a spacious room with ceilings high enough to permit me to straighten to my full height.

A large, round platform dominated the center of the room, which wasn’t as big as it first appeared. Mirrors lined the walls, creating an optical illusion of more space. Worktables were scattered here and there. Clothing in various states of assembly hovered above them, needles and thread plunging up and down on their own.