Mac leaned close and whispered in my ear, “Try to hide your signature. We don’t want them knowing how powerful you are.”
I concentrated, attempting to mimic what I’d done last night with Grey.
“That’s good,” Mac said. “You’re getting a lot better.”
I looked at Grey. “Ready.”
The others nodded, and he knocked on the heavy wooden door. A moment later, it swung open, revealing a lovely room papered in silk and floored with gleaming wood. We entered, and I spotted a short, stout man hurrying through the entryway.
He stopped and stared at us. His long beard was carefully braided and threaded through with gold and gems. The maroon suit that he wore was perfectly tailored, and his neon green tie somehow complimented it despite the garish shade. He was the most dapper man I’d ever seen.
“Hello, Perowall.” Grey’s smile did not reach his eyes.
Perowall’s brows rose. “Devil. It’s been a while since you’ve dined with us. But I’m afraid we’re not open.”
Dined? Opened?
Mac must have spotted the confusion on my face. Leaning closer, she whispered, “They run the most famous restaurant in town. The Cellar.”
“Could you please make a special request of Ogden the Bold?” Grey’s voice was firm. “We’d very much appreciate it. We’ll make it worth his while.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He disappeared behind a heavy velvet curtain.
“I’ve never eaten here,” Mac said. “I hear it’s really quite good.”
“And it’s doing double duty as a meeting place to beg for help in stopping the apocalypse,” I said.
Mac shrugged. “That’s Guild City for you.”
“I doubt we’ll be eating, Mac,” Eve said. “So get your head out of your stomach.”
“Fine, fine.”
I met Grey’s eyes, but they were unreadable.
A few moments later, Perowall returned. “If you’ll please come with me, Ogden will see you.”
Thank God.
We followed Perowall down a wide staircase to a lower level. The air cooled as we descended, and I got the impression of a huge underground space, even though we were only in the stairwell.
“No one knows how big their tower really is,” Mac whispered. “It extends underground. Not to mention The Below.”
“The Below?”
“The tunnels.”
“Right.”
Perowall led us into a long, narrow room with an arched brick ceiling. Small tables lined each side, covered in creamy linen with lovely flower arrangements. Golden light glowed throughout, giving it a distinctly romantic feel.
Perowall led us to a large table at the end, where he gestured for us to sit. He slipped away before we’d done so, but Ogden appeared a moment later. His beard was even longer and more intricately braided than Perowall's, studded with dozens of gleaming gems. It looked like the dwarven version of a crown, albeit upside down. His suit was as fabulous as Perowall’s, a brilliant cobalt with a canary yellow tie.
“Devil.” Ogden inclined his head in greeting and sat at the head of the long table. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
To what do we owe this pleasure?
He was really playing it cool, considering the situation.