A Questionable Quest

Chapter 17... in which my family backstory actually becomes relevant

The first thing I noticed when we entered the wizard's workshop was the smell.

It smelt like... like chicken-roast and rotten eggs. Bleh. I wrinkled my nose. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Van rub his own nose, but he didn't otherwise react.

The second thing I noticed, looking around, was the mess.

Or, more specifically, the lack of one.

To be honest, I had gotten used to the constant rubble and scatter of books, parchment, and supplies that made Mordrin's office look twenty times smaller than it really was. And I suppose I'd sort of just assumed every wizard's office looked that way.

Apparently not.

The large circular room was neatly arranged -- shelves of books curving around one side, shelves of suspicious looking supplies (I frowned -- was that unicorn horn?) around the other side. There were two circular rooms protruding from this one. They were smaller, and one was so dark I had to squint to see it. The other was entirely enclosed in class.

Van and I had entered through the spiral staircase that protruded right up into the center of the big room. We both paused on the landing.

"Wow." That came from me.

"It's certainly... something," Van agreed.

From the outside, the short tower (I say short, but it was still about a hundred feet high) looked not nearly big enough to house a wizard's workshop. And home, I reminded myself, remembering the several locked rooms we'd passed on our way up.

Needless to say, it looked a lot bigger on the inside.

Van looked at me. "So... what now?"

"Why are you asking me?" I was just as clueless as he was. "This is new territory for me too, you know."

"I know. I just... I assumed you'd have been in a wizard's tower before. Is there some sort of... etiquette we should follow?"

I raised a brow. "Yeah, there is." Van waited. "Don't upset the wizard."

It was Van's turn to raise a brow at me. I just smiled, and hefted the bag on my back (which held a very sleepy baby dragon.)

We waited.

And waited.

"So..."

"Hm?"

"Do we... call out... or something?" I didn't want to burst into the wizard's workshop uninvited. (That was never a good idea when confronting a powerful human, I'd learned the hard way when I invited the squire's son up to meet Mordrin once. Neither of them had been as impressed as I'd wanted.)

"Well," Van frowned. He scratched his chin. "We should-"

He broke off, and I looked up.

It was the young man from earlier, wearing the same (or identical) black robes and a surprisingly un-sarcastic look on his face.

Then he spotted us.

He dropped the books to the table with a thud. "You came." A frustrated expression washed over his face. "I didn't think you would."

"What," I stepped off the stairs and made room for Van to pass, "with such a warm invitation yesterday, how could we resist?"

His lips twitched, ever-so-slightly.

I widened my eyes, almost comically, and pointed. "You almost grinned." I turned to Van. "Did you see that? He almost grinned!"

Van smiled, crossed his armoured arms, and said lightly, "aren't we not supposed to upset the powerful wizard?"