Snippet #2716856

It didn't take much longer to finish his business, to his relief. The two young women no longer laughed at him and neither seemed upset, which was just what he needed to get his equilibrium back. He collected his key, smiled and nodded his head to each in farewell and followed directions to his room.

He dropped his knapsack on the floor at the foot of the bed, without even bothering to unpack. The energy required didn't seem worth it. Instead, he flopped on the bed and closed his eyes. It had been a long day already and he was tired. Maybe he would get supplies tomorrow, if he was still here then.

Still here! His eyes shot open. All the thoughts surrounding that phrase took over his mind. No, he can't sleep yet. He pushed his tired body up and got off the bed to kneel next to his knapsack. He opened it and pulled out thick gloves, much too thick for the mild weather. Covering his hands with the heavy gloves, he pulled out a salt shaker from the front pocket, not touching any of his clothes or other necessities, and sprinkled a little salt on the windowsill.

He paused in front of the window and looked out over a park in the town. A young woman and a number of children and teens ran around with a ball. Tate was careful not to touch the salted windowsill, but he smiled at the scene, until the eldest player shouted something about being a million years old. He trembled and backed away. He sat on the ground next to the window. How could it be? How did they find him? How did they get here?

Tate drifted deep into his panic, trembling and feeling his age more than he had in a while. He scrambled around the room scattering more salt and snatching up his things. Just as he thought he finished, a knock came to the door and he froze. "Mr. Smith, would you like to come down to the dining hall for dinner or have it here?" Dining hall? Mr. Smith. There was no ancient power behind the name, but neither would his enemies call him Mr. Smith.

He didn't answer right away. First, he considered his options. His guest, perhaps another worker at the inn, didn't try to break in, but simply waited. With his emotions and senses on high alert, he still felt the person's presence on the other side of the door. He sprinkled salt on all the exit points already, though it would be another thing he had to pick up in town. He wrinkled his nose, not too keen on the thought. Since he left the faerie mound, he didn't like salt any better than the faeries themselves. He had something of an allergic reaction to it, but he always kept some on hand as a precaution. "I'll take my meals here, if you don't mind."

"As you wish, sir." Then the presence left and Tate took a deep breath and fell back to the bed.
"Wait!" He moved to a sitting position and called back, "I can't eat anything with salt in it, I'm allergic."
"Allergic to salt?"
"Yes!"
"I'll see what I can do, sir."

Tate would later have to explain his room, but for now he stayed put. He got up to the window again and saw the woman still running around. Well, If she was who she said she was, she hadn't noticed him yet. He went back to the bed, dropped off his bag and replaced the salt shaker. Then he left the gloves next to it.