hours outside or in the front room with Will. Another mystery to add to the list, he thought.
The furnishings were impressive. A massive, four-poster bed dominated one end of the room while an ornate, hand-carved wood desk occupied the other. In between, the walls were dominated by floor-to-ceiling bookcases that were filled with leather-bound tomes of all shapes and sizes.
“What the hell?” Will blurted out when he first entered.
“What did you expect?” asked his grandfather.
He didn’t answer for a second; he was too busy taking in the view. Will’s mouth formed an ‘o’ as his eyes roved back and forth. Then he replied, “Something like the other room, only smaller and smellier.” Pointing at the bed, he complained, “That thing is big enough for three people! Why did I have to sleep on the floor all those months?”
“Because it’s my damned bed,” retorted the old man. “Get your own.”
“I can’t believe you,” said Will, disgusted. “You’ve kept me living like a dog while you slept in your little palace.”
“Wrong tense,” said his grandfather. “You’re still living like a dog. The only reason you’re in here now is because the entrance to my workshop is over there.” He pointed to an expensive-looking rug in the center of the room.
Ignoring the old man, Will walked closer to examine the bed. The coverlet on top of it was fancier than any other article of bedding he had ever seen. Two large pillows were at the head of the bed, and the material that covered them was of a sort he didn’t recognize. Unable to help himself, he reached over to touch one with his fingers. It was smooth to the touch and softer than anything he had ever felt. “What sort of fabric is this?” he asked.
“Silk,” stated Arrogan. “Keep your hands off it.”
Will noticed that the two pillows were different. Both were silk, but while one was fairly simple and undecorated, the other had frills around the edges. “Why do you have two pillows?” He leaned over to pick up the fancier of the two.
“Stop!” commanded Arrogan, making no attempt to conceal his anger. Will found himself paralyzed once again. “Touch that pillow, and I’ll take your hands off and use them to make bookends.”
A second later the paralysis ended, and Will stepped away, noting a pained expression on his grandfather’s face. Trying to kill him doesn’t bother him in the least, but threaten his precious pillows and he’s furious, noted Will silently. I’ll never understand the man. He started to say as much, but a second glance at the old man’s face made him uncertain. Reading Arrogan’s expressions was never easy. Is he angry, or something else?
Arrogan turned away, then bent over and lifted the edge of the rug. Underneath was a trapdoor. He lifted it, exposing a wooden ladder that led below. “The workshop is down here,” he said flatly.
“You have a cellar?”
“No, I just like confusing people, so I built a false door in the floor,” responded the old man dryly. With a word, he created a globe of light that hovered above his head and began to descend the ladder. As he went, he waved at Will. “Follow.”
Will twisted the corner of his mouth up for a second, then answered with obvious sarcasm, “I can’t. You said you don’t have a cellar.”
“Don’t be a smartass, William.”
Will followed. “I can’t believe you told me that. You’re the king of smartasses.”
“I have a gift. It would be a shame not to share it,” said his mentor. “You, on the other hand, should cultivate your own strengths.”
When they reached the bottom of the ladder, his grandfather made an odd gesture with his fingers, and the magical light split into four parts and flew to the corners of the room where they took up residence in small glass globes mounted on the ceiling. The cellar looked to be as large as both of the upper rooms put together, with stone walls and a tiled floor. Two long, heavy tables, laden with glassware and other oddments, spanned either side of the room.
Unable to restrain himself, Will finally asked, “Just what are my strengths, in your opinion?”
“Gullibility and vapid stares,” answered his grandfather immediately. “Thank you for asking.”
Will groaned.
“None of that,” said the old man, wagging his finger. “You proved the first trait by asking, and you’re putting on a great show of empty-headed goggling at the room as we speak.”
Will closed his mouth and crossed his arms, refusing to respond, primarily because he