Phony Potions

Chapter 44

The manor was packed with people. Even from a distance I saw them milling past both the upstairs and downstairs windows. The shutters had been thrown open and the curtains tied to the side to allow a breeze to cool the guests. The party spilled out into the garden, where dozens of tables with small shading parasols had been set up to absorb the overflow capacity of the guest list's entourages. The sorcerers were populous enough as is, but it was made even worse by the many Assistants stumbling over each other. And for them, even more support staff, as cleaning people were visible darting between groups of chatting party-goers to clean up any spills and attend to refreshments.

The pathway leading up to the stairs was choked with carriages, the drivers impatient or stoic as their masters climbed off laughing and reminiscing. Despite how many had come early, even more had swept into Blythe at the last minute, each bringing a small army. There was hardly a place to stand. People were pushed up against the trees and bushes, not to find a moment of quiet to trade tender kisses, but because there was nowhere else to stand. The constant shouts of glee and happiness as old friends were reunited only slowed the foot traffic more as others stopped around them, waiting to pass. Swells of people gathered like knots in a loose spool of thread.

Carefully swinging his hips so he avoided clipping a gurgling birdbath, Osoro managed to get past an entire wall of people. Being thinner, I caught up to him in the small pocket of air he'd found with no other battle scars besides the small flower bed my new boots grazed. A petal was stuck between the buckle and the tongue of the shoe, and I shook my foot idly to dislodge it as I waited to make our next move.

Wishid Kluth, distinctive as always in his tidy white ensemble, was working the door, verifying identities as he let people pass as part greeter and part bouncer. When he saw Osoro, he waved us through, though he frowned. We went from the entryway toward the large arch that denoted the main dining hall. The decorations were much nicer now that it was properly populated with bustling groups.

Osoro leaned over to me.

"Everything we discussed in the Avalonry is to be kept secret."

"What? But—"

A plump man with a mustache and parted brown hair broke away from the crowd. It took me a second to recognize him in formal wear, but when he was right before us I realized it was Bernard.

"I can't believe I was planning on skipping the dinner. Even more people showed up than at the boat party last night.... Though I was hoping to see Ricardo again; he was really excited to tell me something... I wouldn't be surprised if he overindulged and was recovering at the inn. Just like him," Bernard laughed. "Gave me a chance to catch up with Goldwynn finally. I'd heard he was in town but he's been so busy with all the Arcanacrats that are squabbling. He's got the most hideous Proving scars! And the best stories, if Azeria goes into her own Proving with the right mindset—" Bernard stopped. He leered at me. "Who's your handsome friend, Sir Osoro?"

He extended a hand, shaking my hand vigorously. The warmth and charisma radiating from him was the complete opposite of the chilly stuck up attitude I was used to, and then I remembered I was dressed in finery and under a disguise Enchantment.

"Uh..." Sir Osoro began, caught off guard. He should have thought of a name to give the doorman!

"I'm Bernard, Bernard Reglar. It's a pleasure to meet you. Would you like me to introduce you to some of the guests?"

"Bernard—" Osoro tried to edge in.

"I sense you're not Enchanted, but many guests are accompanied by their Assistants so you shouldn't want for conversation—"