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shook her head. “I don’t know. Something wrong. Maybe that doesn’t make any sense.”
    I stayed quiet. I had thieves and kidnappers to deal with, and the two-magics problem; I couldn’t do anything about this other something wrong .
    â€œI’m not the only one who feels it. Kerrn has the guard on high alert. She’s on edge about it.”
    If Kerrn had any more edge, she’d cut herself.
    Rowan gave a brisk nod. “With all of that, and those attackers on the loose, and the magisters insisting that you be arrested for thievery, it really is a good thing you’re living here under my protection, instead of at Heartsease. You’ll be safer as long as you stay in the Dawn Palace.”
    By safer she meant Kerrn and her guards following me around all the time. “But Ro, there’s things I have to do.”
    â€œYou have to be more careful,” she said.
    â€œI am careful.”
    She gave me an exasperated look. “Conn, today you tricked your guard and went into the Twilight alone, where you apparently did a magical spell that left you smelling like smoke. You are not careful.” She folded her arms. “You are the ducal magister now. You simply must learn to act like it.”
    There she was, shoving me into the ducal magister box again. “Ro, I never agreed to that,” I reminded her.
    She stood up. “All right. Fine. Any moment now Miss Dimity is going to pop in here to remind me that I’d better go to bed because I have an early meeting in the morning. So good night, Connwaer.” She headed for the door, then paused and pulled a heavy-looking bag out of her pocket and tossed it on the table. It made a jingling sound when it landed. “Oh, and here,” she said crossly. “It’s your pay for serving as ducal magister.”
    Then she left, slamming the door behind her.

C HAPTER
    9

    I didn’t want any pay for being the ducal magister. Still, I went over to investigate the bag. It was full of money—silver locks and even some golden sun coins. More money than I knew what to do with. I hid it away on a shelf behind some books and went to the door to have a look at the lock.
    I was just about to bring out my lockpick wires to see if I could open and close it—just to keep myself sharp—when the door was flung open, knocking me over, and Miss Dimity stepped into the room.
    I scrambled to my feet, shoving the wires back into my pocket.
    â€œThe dragon is not here with the ducal magister,” she announced to the green-liveried servants behind her. “It is safe to enter.”
    Some of the servants brought coal and started a fire; she waved the rest to a table near the hearth. After eyeing the deep scratches on the back of the chair Pip liked to perch on, she gave me one of her scraped-on smiles.
    â€œDucal Magister,” she said, with a stiff bow. “Your dinner.” She handed me a napkin and pointed at the Pip-scratched chair.
    I sat in it. My stomach rumbled.
    Servants trooped in and, casting cautious-curious looks at me, laid out plates and forks, and covered dishes, enough to crowd three of the little tables.
    Miss Dimity swept the cover off the first dish. Something gray and wobbly. “Jellied eel with horseradish sauce,” she proclaimed. Another dish with a lump of bluish-white stuff in it: “Eggplant surprise!” A bowl: “Cabbage soup.” Another plate: “Piebald beans.” And last: “With candied fern-frond for dessert.” She pointed to a teapot. “Tea.” She nodded as a servant added a last plate covered with a white napkin. “And, as ordered especially for you by the duchess, biscuits.”
    She stepped back and waited as all the other servants went out; then she left, closing the door behind her with a polite click .
    I looked over the food. I’d start with the biscuits, of course, though I knew they wouldn’t be as good as Benet’s