It was indeed pleasant. Conor asked, “Where’s Finn?”
“Talking to Lord MacDonnell, I believe,” Meilin answered. “The Lord of Glengavin.”
Rollan’s stomach growled loud enough for it to be heard over the music.
Abeke looked sympathetic. “Have you seen the food?”
Long tables lined the edges of the room. One sat higher than the others on a raised platform. All the chairs were fancy at that higher table, but the fanciest was a gold-painted one, like a throne. The other tables were piled with food. There were cakes soaked in sugar syrup and potatoes glazed with butter. Fruit swam in cream. Oatcakes formed teetering stacks. Sausages lay in savory pyramids. Blushing lumps of carrot and rich knobs of beef floated in tureens.
None of the many people in the hall had touched the food yet. They all seemed to be waiting for a cue.
Finn entered the hall with a big, jolly-looking man — Lord MacDonnell. He had a tidily trimmed dark beard and wide-spaced, amused eyes. He wore a kilt and tall wool socks. A great tartan sash draped one shoulder and was pinned at his hip with a dagger-shaped brooch.
Everything about Lord MacDonnell seemed cheerful. A little too obviously cheerful, perhaps. As a street rat, Rollan had learned that a smile could sometimes hide wicked thoughts better than a sneer.
He didn’t trust him.
He didn’t know why. Probably because he didn’t trust anybody. In any case, something in Rollan whispered, Maybe not everything about him is jolly.
As if confirming this suspicion, Essix swung down suddenly to perch on Rollan’s shoulder. Her talons clung tightly to his leather jerkin. Leaning close to him, her beak parted as she made a soft noise in his ear.
“I know,” he hissed. “I’m watching.”
But she made another soft noise. And this time, Rollan’s vision suddenly clicked into sharper focus. It was as if he had been observing the world in black and white before, and now it was in color. He saw how the servants’ postures became more tense now that Lord MacDonnell and Finn had entered the room. He noticed how the musicians hesitated, confirming that they were still wanted. He saw how the two children, a boy and a girl, who walked behind MacDonnell were spitting images of him — the lord’s children, surely. He noted that there was no Lady MacDonnell in evidence. He noticed the wrinkle between Lord MacDonnell’s eyebrows. He saw the dais where the lord was meant to sit with his children and wife, and he noticed that there was a raised seat for the lord of the castle’s spirit animal to rest on. And he noticed that seat was covered with dust.
It was almost too much to notice all at once. He could see with Essix’s great eyes, but he still had to process it with Rollan’s less-than-great brain. He staggered a bit. Conor grabbed Rollan’s arm (how clearly Rollan could observe even Conor, with his worn shepherd’s hands). As Rollan swatted at him in protest, Essix flapped from his shoulder. Immediately everything became ordinary again.
The sudden ordinariness was as overpowering as the stunning vision had been. It seemed impossible to go back to seeing things in the usual way after observing the world with Essix’s amazing power.
If our bond was better, Rollan wondered, is that how I’d see things all the time?
Finn, Lord MacDonnell, and the two children walked up to Rollan and the others.
“Welcome! I am Lord MacDonnell, and this is my home!” The man had a big, jolly voice to match his big, jolly body. “Greencloaks are always welcome here. Glengavin is a home to all heroes.”
Finn murmured a noise of polite gratitude.
“This is my son, Culloden,” Lord MacDonnell said, gesturing to the boy behind him, “and this is my daughter, Shanna.”
Both children bowed. Conor, Meilin, and Abeke bowed back, with Rollan quickly chiming in with a sort-of bow-like movement of his own. Finn then introduced the four kids, adding, “The four Great Beasts need no introduction, I’m sure.”
“No, indeed! Where’s your green, lad?” Lord MacDonnell asked as Rollan glanced around, trying to spot where Essix had suddenly gone to.
Meilin elbowed Rollan. Lord MacDonnell was talking to him.
“Oh, that,” Rollan said. “I’m less a member of the Greencloaks and more a member of Let’s-Save-Erdas.”
Lord MacDonnell laughed heartily. “Aren’t we all. Aren’t we all! Shall we eat?”
He clapped his hands.
Instantly, every sound in the hall went silent. Conversation stopped. Not a single footstep shuffled on the stone. The musicians’ hands slapped to dampen their strings.
The quiet was eerie.
Then Lord MacDonnell smiled hugely again and clapped once more.
The musicians scrambled to play a more stately march as he made his way to the feast. Lord MacDonnell plucked a single grape from a platter. Every eye in the room watched as he dropped it in his mouth.
The moment he’d eaten it, conversation buzzed back up again and everyone moved to collect food for themselves. This must be another law. How tense that silence had been. Rollan wondered what the penalty was for finding yourself on the wrong side of the Law of Glengavin.
Rollan and Meilin hung back as Finn, Conor, and Abeke helped themselves.
“This is weird,” Rollan said.
“I think it’s great,” Meilin said. “Look how well-run this is. Most banquets and parties are disasters. This runs like an army. And his children are perfect.”
“Perfect minions,” replied Rollan, watching them. The two children followed just behind Lord MacDonnell, nodding when spoken to.
“That’s respect,” Meilin said. “I wouldn’t expect you to recognize it.”
“Oh, don’t pull rank on me now —” started Rollan. He broke off as Lord MacDonnell headed back their way.
“Aren’t you two going to enjoy the feast?” Lord MacDonnell boomed in a pleasant baritone. “The salmon is divine.”
“We were just admiring it,” Meilin said smoothly. “And also how well your children obey.”
Rollan was about to open his mouth to point out that he had not been admiring that particular aspect of the night, but Meilin pinched his elbow, out of sight of Lord MacDonnell. Rollan swallowed his words.
“Well, my castle, my law!” Lord MacDonnell said with a laugh.
The image of the perfect guest, Meilin asked him, “Will you tell me more about how you run this banquet?”
She was so clever at disguising her true emotions that even Rollan couldn’t tell if her interest was manufactured or genuine. She and Lord MacDonnell went to get food together, chatting the entire way.