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“Best ever,” I finished with her and she beamed at me.
“So, where are the Glass Mountains from here?”
A dragonfly girl brought us new mugs, to replace our drained ones. She gave me a quizzical look and I noticed the powder-blue ringlets. Frowning, she seemed about to say something, but Starling spoke and she wandered off.
“I don’t know. Past the Black Bogs, for sure. Somewhere near the Plain of Fire. Why are you wondering?”
“Everything I can learn about this world could be vital information.”
She giggle-snorted into her beer. “I really don’t think knowing where the Glass Mountains are could be vital to anyone.”
“Knowledge is power.”
“I thought power is power.”
I parsed through the image I got from her, trying to decide if she’d used two different concepts that I received as the same word, but I didn’t think so. “Knowledge is a way of gaining power then.”
She pointed a finger at me. “No. Magic is a way of gaining power. That’s the fast road to the top.”
“Are you drunk? Already?”
“’S really good beer. Best ever.” Starling stared dreamily into her mug. The soldiers laughed uproariously and broke into a drinking song. One of the dragonfly girls fell off the table and was upside down, giggling with her skirts over her head. Larch appeared to be passed out with his face in a basket of chips. No sign of blue ringlets.
I felt fine and Darling seemed his usual self. He waved his tail in contentment and asked for more chips.
Sipping my beer—and empty stomach or no, it wasn’t hitting me anywhere near as much as the others—I stretched out my thoughts, listening for what might be going on. It just felt wrong. Like some sort of ambush. Clearly Liam and his men were in no state to defend me, should something happen.
Some magic glittered here and there—mostly fixed spells of the kind Rogue could make and I couldn’t. One tangled nest of magic carried an interesting signature I didn’t recognize, but was almost mathematically constructed to convert heat to cold. Thus the unexpected refrigeration. So interesting.
Beyond the human men and Starling, who now had her mug upended over her face, waiting for the last few drops to run down, there seemed to be only two other minds in the vicinity and the thoughts of both were curiously obscure. Not muted like Rogue when he didn’t want me to hear what he was thinking, but…almost like they were in another language? Which couldn’t be right.
“Don’t fret—none of them others can read my mind either.”
The near-Cockney accent, speaking English, no less, started me out of my near trance. A cheerful woman stood next to the table with an enormous platter. I scooted our chips aside to make room for her to set it down. “Mistress Nancy, I presume?”
“The one and only. Welcome to the Inn of Seven Moons, dearie.”
The advent of the promised bangers and mash sent increased excitement through the room, waking the sleepy and stimulating those in fits of hilarity to get serious about their plates. The dragonfly girls staggered only a little while bringing more platters and additional mugs of beer. Starling seized hers and took a deep drink, burping happily.
Meanwhile Nancy served me a generous plate, adding a dollop of enticing chunky applesauce.
“Now taste that and tell me if it’s not just like home.” She fixed me with a keen eye.
I speared a piece of sausage, swirled it in some of the gravied mashed potatoes and dipped it in the applesauce. She nodded at my technique, then grinned when I groaned at the flavor.
“This is amazing! It does taste totally authentic.” I glanced around the place and sized her up again. “Everything here is. Why do I think there’s a story?”
She chuckled and set her ample rear end in the chair next to me. “Where did you come though?”
The question didn’t surprise me at all. Clearly she was several steps ahead of me.
“Devils Tower. Big rock monument in Wyoming, in the U.S. New world,” I added, just in case.
“Your kitty want a sausage?”
“Undoubtedly.”
She tossed a banger to Darling, who pinned it with one set of flexed claws and started enthusiastically gnawing on the end.
