She had ducked through the opening and then straightened, knocking her head on the ceiling. Rubbing the bump, she wondered why the tall healer had a room this short in his establishment. She’d ask. One needed questions. One of her mentors had primed her to ask questions. “Never give up your whys, whens, and wherefores,” he had said repeatedly as she trained under his tutelage. “Intelligent people never pretend they understand when they do not. Questions are the cure for common stupidity.” A small pump beside the sink provided water, not hot or cold, but pleasantly warm. Something else she would ask about. The soap smelled like beef stew. She inspected it closely but saw nothing that looked even remotely like carrots, potatoes, or onions. Green flecks dotted the creamy brown bar, but even those couldn’t be parts of a vegetable. The soap lathered just like the soaps she had used everywhere else she’d been. But the fragrance made her stomach growl and reminded her she’d only had a smidgen of the roasted rabbit they’d eaten before coming to Gristermeyer.
