“Thanks,” I said, softening my tone a little. The butler disappeared back inside, and as I listened to him shuffle off, I couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. Was he seriously the only servant here? If so, no wonder the place was in such disrepair. What was Ballos thinking, leaving it up to one elderly man to take care of this big house? I wondered why the old butler hadn’t simply retired at this point. Maybe he needed the money, or felt some sort of loyalty for the mage who’d employed him all these years.

Eventually, the butler came back again. This time, he seemed more relaxed. “Master Ballos will see you,” he said, opening the door wider. “Please, come in.”

I stepped over the threshold cautiously, waiting for the ward to kick in. But, thankfully, it didn’t, and Rylan and I passed into the foyer unscathed. The butler led us down a hall, and we passed through rooms of expensive, but dusty furniture and rugs. My nose twitched as I fought against the desire to sneeze, and Rylan looked like he was pretty uncomfortable too. I didn’t smell a single other person in this place aside from the butler, and another male scent that I imagined belonged to Ballos.

“Master Ballos,” the butler said, knocking on the door we stopped at. “Your visitors are here.”

“Very well,” a gruff voice barked. “Let them in.”

The butler opened the door into a large study filled with bookshelves and several desks piled high with leather-bound notebooks, stacks of paper, and what looked to be manuscripts. The place seemed to be in some kind of organized chaos, with Ballos at his desk in the center of the storm, bent over a long piece of aged parchment as he peered at it, muttering to himself. He was as unkempt as the rest of the house, dressed in a pair of faded brown robes. His grey hair and beard were in urgent need of a brush—no way would a comb get through that tangled mess. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses perched on his hooked nose, and though he had the appearance of a madman, the dark eyes behind those glasses were sharp and brimming with intelligence as he immersed himself in whatever magical research he was conducting.

“Yes, so what is it?” he asked irritably as he straightened up from his desk. His eyes widened as he caught sight of me, and he stumbled back a step. “You!” he shouted, pointing a gnarled finger at me. “No, you cannot be in my house. You must leave at once!”

“You know who I am,” I guessed, narrowing my eyes as I stepped over a stack of books to close the distance between us. “You know why I’m here.”

“I am not interested in speaking with you,” Ballos said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am in the middle of some very important work.”