Polgara's apartment, Monday (NWS)
Polgara had been feeling restless all day. She paced her apartment, picking things up and setting them down again. She couldn't settle. The walls chafed her. She finally halted herself in the centre of the room, taking a deep soothing breath. She had to do something to calm herself down. So she closed her eyes and thought of the one place that had always given her happiness.
And slowly, shimmering as if from heat, the room changed. Plain painted walls became smooth stone. Furniture rearranged itself into low divans and massive, solid chairs. A fire crackled against one wall, nestled beneath its massive mantle. Deep blue draperies softened the harsh stone. Beyond a heavy oaken door that stood open for a small breeze was her bed, now huge, four-postered, and canopied. Her apartment was, in short, an exact copy of her rooms in the Rivan Citadel, the rooms her sister had given her.
As a final touch, her windows - now small, thick, and as easily defensible as the rest of the Citadel - looked out, not over the town, but over the grey city of Riva and the coast of the Isle of the Winds.
And slowly, shimmering as if from heat, the room changed. Plain painted walls became smooth stone. Furniture rearranged itself into low divans and massive, solid chairs. A fire crackled against one wall, nestled beneath its massive mantle. Deep blue draperies softened the harsh stone. Beyond a heavy oaken door that stood open for a small breeze was her bed, now huge, four-postered, and canopied. Her apartment was, in short, an exact copy of her rooms in the Rivan Citadel, the rooms her sister had given her.
As a final touch, her windows - now small, thick, and as easily defensible as the rest of the Citadel - looked out, not over the town, but over the grey city of Riva and the coast of the Isle of the Winds.