Yún drew herself into a straight line. “We refuse.”
“Then we will arrest you for threatening the safety and tranquility of our king’s domain. Do not think,” he added, “that we cannot. Our chief wizard is more powerful than you can imagine.”
More glares. More hisses from Yún. The wizard, however, was taller and older, with the immovable patience of a mountain. If we had a century to wear him down, like rain wearing through rock and metal . . . But we didn’t. And this mountain had two wizards and a bunch of armed soldiers on his side.
“What about that thief?” Yún said reluctantly.
“He will be questioned. Do not worry.”
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t facing any fines or jail sentence.
I touched Yún’s arm. “We have no choice.”
She flinched away from my touch. “I know,” she said in a low voice. “But”—she rounded on the senior wizard—“we bring our griffin with us. It’s not safe otherwise.”
His eyes narrowed, but he only shrugged. “You are probably right.”
“And our stall,” she continued. “You must set a guard here so no one else attempts to rob us. Understood?”
/> He grunted, which I took to mean yes.
I scooped up Yao-guài. He shivered in my arms and made small chirruping noises. It was hard to imagine this small feathery creature attacking anyone. (Killing them. Admit it. He almost did.) The griffin nibbled at my shirt. I offered him a chunk of lamb from the basket. He gobbled it down so fast he almost choked.
They tried to smother him, Chen said.
What do you mean, ‘they’?
There were three. Two remained outside to keep watch. They ran away when their comrade screamed. Their companion spirits were very strange. Not from around here.
For Chen to call a companion spirit “strange” meant something.
The wizard coughed. Right. Better to get this questioning over with. Besides, it made more sense to tell the chief so-and-so about the thief’s friends.
They hurried us through the crowds to the miniature palace, and down winding stone steps to an underground (more underground) hall with doors and corridors leading off in all directions. Our wizards directed us down the widest of these corridors, to a set of double doors with guards on either side.
The senior wizard stepped forward and presented credentials. He and the two guards spoke in low tones.
“. . . taking care of that other one now . . .”
“. . . really think it’s necessary . . .”
“. . . unauthorized magic . . .”
The guard must have agreed we were terribly dangerous criminals because he stared at us nervously before tapping on his wrist talk-phone. It beeped right away, and the doors swung open.
Our wizard keepers herded us into a small room covered on all sides by stone fitted to stone. A striped carpet blanketed the floor—all greens and browns and brass-bright yellow. A steady golden light illuminated everything without any sign of lamp or candle. And though there was no fireplace in sight, the air was as hot as a summer day, and smelling of crushed herbs and sweat. All around us magic flux flickered.
An old woman dressed in dark blue sat behind a desk. Her hair was snowy white and so thin that her skull showed through. Her eyes were shining black buttons in a nut-brown face, thick with wrinkles. In spite of the heat, she wore layer upon layer of woolen robes.
The chief wizard observed our approach. “I hope you have not misjudged the importance of interrupting me,” she said mildly.
Our wizard bent low. “A matter of a magical disturbance, Your Honored Worship.”
“Ah. That.” She beckoned him closer and they conferred. Her expression never changed, but at the end of two minutes, she nodded briskly. “Good enough. Leave them with me.”
“Your Honored Worship—”
“I am not in danger, Captain.”