He released the railing as if it burned him and stepped quickly back. “That beast… that was the dragon that I stumbled on in the forest!” he snapped.
“Yes, High Lord, it was,” the other agreed, turning away from the railing with him. The owlish face was contemplative. “Strabo is his name. He lives east where the valley is a wasteland of desert, marsh and scrub. He lives alone there, the last of his kind.”
Ben folded his arms into his chest, suddenly cold. “He was close enough to touch.”
“It only seemed so.” Questor’s smile was wry. “The magic made it appear that way. In truth, we never left this room.”
“Never left?”
“You may try it yourself sometime. High Lord. The magic of the Landsview is yours to wield — and you have seen for yourself how it works.”
“All too well, thank you.”
“Have you learned enough about Landover for tonight, then? Would you like to have dinner now?”
Ben had regained his composure. “Dinner would be fine.” He took a deep breath. “Are there any surprises that go with it? If there are, I would like to know about them now — not after the fact.”
The wizard pushed his way back through the tower door. “No, High Lord. There should be no surprises with dinner. It should be quite pleasant. Come along.”
They trekked back through the corridors and stairwells of the castle until, they had again reached the dining hall. Ben still had questions that needed answers, but he was weary and he was hungry and the questions could wait. He let himself be led to the head of the tressel table and seated. His stomach was beginning to settle again, the chill to leave his body. He had survived after all, with no apparent damage. So if that was the worst that he was to endure…
“Would you care for some wine. High Lord?” Questor interrupted his thoughts. The day was gone, and the darkness of the castle was deepening. The wizard lifted his hand and pointed, and the chandeliers came alive with light, a soft golden glow that was flameless and smokeless, yet had no apparent power source. “Another little touch of the magic.” The other smiled. “Did you say you wanted wine?”
Ben slumped back in his chair. “Yes — and leave the bottle.”
Questor gestured, and the wine appeared at his elbow. The wizard had taken a seat on his right. Abernathy and Bunion appeared and sat on his left. Parsnip would undoubtedly join them after bringing out the dinner. They were just one, big, happy family.
Ben faced the wizard. “I’ll say it once more, Questor — no more surprises. I want to know everything. I want to know about the medallion. I want to know about Meeks. I want to know who sold Landover and why. I want to know all of it.”
Abernathy put his paws on the table and looked at Ben from over the rims of his glasses. “I would drink the wine first, High Lord, if I were you.”
The shaggy face glanced knowingly at Bunion seated next to him. The kobold smiled and hissed and showed all of his teeth.
Ben reached for the wine.
He had consumed a good portion of the bottle before Parsnip reappeared with dinner. The kobold brought a stew made of beef and vegetables, fresh-baked bread, cheeses and pastries. Whatever else was wrong, no one was starving to death, he thought.
He ate a bowl of the stew with pieces of bread and cheese, drank several glasses of wine and thought about Annie and Miles and what he had left behind. Questor and Abernathy argued about everything from the nature of a balanced meal to the role of magic in health care. The kobolds grinned and ate everything in sight. When it came time for seconds, Questor found the stew too cold and suggested it be reheated. Parsnip hissed and showed his teeth, and Abernathy suggested it was better served cold. Questor disagreed. The argument was resolved when Questor used the magic to reheat it where it cooled in its kettle, and the kettle exploded in flames setting fire to the whole of the tressel table and the linen service set upon it. Everyone jumped up, yelling, hissing and barking all at once. Questor used the magic again, and this time it rained inside the dining hall for fifteen minutes.