CHAPTER 36
Rory awoke to the feeling that her saliva had turned to sawdust. She peeled her tongue from the roof of her mouth and looked around. She was in an unknown room. The walls were pale yellow and there was a vase out of which poured a spray of jasmine. The flowers smelled strong and sweet, but beneath there was the smell of hot metal and tar. Through the window at the foot of the bed, she could see that it was the middle of the night.
She turned her head and her neck felt like a stiff hinge — she half-expected to hear it creaking. At the foot of the bed, to the left, was Cruikshank, asleep in a chair. Rory guessed that they were up in her private quarters in her workshop, and it was a relief to be back in familiar, safe surroundings — although she had never been in Cruikshank’s pr
