biscuits, hot out of the oven and dripping with butter and honey.
These biscuits were a brownish-gray color and were arranged on a plate around a little pot of greasy-looking butter and a sprig of some sort of greenery. I tried one. Hard and tasting a bit like ash. Even the biscuits I baked were better than this!
The cabbage soup sounded like the best of the rest of it, but when I tried a bite, it was cold. None of the other food was hot, either; it was all cold as cobblestones, and so was the tea. The kitchens were far away from the ducal magisterâs rooms, I guessed. I dunked one of the ashy biscuits in the soup, which tasted like salted washwater, and ate a few bites, but didnât feel like eating any more.
In the hearth, the fire roared. The servants had lit fires in the other rooms, too, because Rowan had ordered them to make it more cozy in here, but now it was getting stuffy and hot. The bedroom was hottest of all, so I took the blankets off the bed and slept on the floor in the main room with the windows wide open.
In the morning I woke up with the fire dead in the grate, frosty air pouring in the windows, and Pip crouched on my chest, glaring at me with its ember-red eyes.
âHello, you,â I said, and my voice sounded rusty.
Pip opened its maw and dropped something onto my chest. I picked it up and used the edge of the blanket to wipe the dragon spit off it. Pushing Pip off me, sitting up in my blankets, I examined it. A stone. It fizzed in my hand, making my fingers tingle. It was deep purple, round, and rough, about the size of a quailâs egg. A locus magicalicus. Sanderaâs stolen stone, sure as sure. I got to my feet and looked down at Pip, crouched on the floor next to me. âWhereâd you get this?â I asked.
Krrrr , Pip said. It crawled onto my abandoned blankets, wrapping its tail around itself.
Busy night, clear as clear.
I crouched down next to the nest of blankets. âYou didnât steal it, did you Pip?â
The little dragon blinked, then closed its eyes.
Had Pip stolen Sanderaâs stone? Maybe. More likely, the dragon had stolen the locus stone back from the thieves, whoever they were. Why else would Pip be bringing the stones to me? If it wanted the stones for itself, itâd just swallow them, as it had swallowed mine.
Getting to my feet, I set the locus stone on the table. Then I washed and found some clean clothes and got dressed.
I was pulling my black sweater on over my head when a knock came at the door, and a piece of paper, folded, slid under it. As I went to pick it up, I heard footsteps hurrying away, a servant too frightened to wait for me to open the door.
A note from Nevery.
Â
Connwaer. The magisters have called a meeting for this morning to discuss the thefts of locus magicalicus stones. You must attend. DO NOT BE LATE.
âNevery
Â
The last thing I wanted to do this morning was go to a meeting where Iâd be shouted at by the magisters. Especially with Sanderaâs stolen stone on me. Still, if Nevery wanted me there, I had to go.
Not on an empty stomach, though. Because I had a ferocious dragon with me, the servants wouldnât bring breakfast to my room unless they had a direct order from Rowan, so I settled sleeping Pip on my shoulder, slipped Sanderaâs stone into my pocket, and went looking for food.
When I stepped out of my rooms, two guards were at the door. They both followed me while I found the kitchens. The cook shooed me and Pip out, but told me to wait in the hallway while she found me something to eat.
âNothing fancy,â I called after her, as she went back inside.
She came out with a plate of hot rolls and butter and jam. âYouâre that wizard boy, arenât you?â
I had a dragon riding on my shoulder; who else would I be? I nodded.
The cook looked me up and down, hands on hips. âYou are too thin. You should eat more. And what about that?â She pointed at
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