There was no other explanation for it, yet it made no sense. How could someone like him, low born, just a smith, do magic?

Maybe they would have an answer in the House of Knowledge. Then again, maybe they wouldnt; after all, the kingdom seemed to only have one true sorcerer. Inexorably, Devin found his eyes drawn toward the castle, and to the tower that stood over part of it, sticking out over the water around it in a way that looked tenuous, even dangerous. Devin knew that the occupant of that tower would have answers for him, had even come to him once before, in his dreams.

Suddenly, a sense of purpose, of direction, came rushing to him all at once. Of course. His dream. Master Grey. He had to see Master Grey, had to ask him what was going on. No one else would be able to explain it all.

Yet how was he supposed to get in to see the kings sorcerer?

A crier shouted again, declaring the feasting once more, and Devin knew that it was his best chance. Setting his eyes on the castle, he started to walk, making his way inward through the circles of the city. He crossed more bridges, and now guards started to frown more, half stepping in front of him as he passed.

Im on my way to the feasting, Devin said each time, and each time they stepped back, as if it were some password to let even a commoner like him into the most exalted parts of the city. Soon, the outer walls of the castle were rising above him, tall and gray and sheer as a cliff face, even though they were festooned with banners celebrating the noble lines attending the celebrations.

Once more, the guards stepped back for Devin, although this time, one of them called to him as he passed.

Just remember that theres none but the nobles allowed in the great hall proper. Keep yourself to the outer courtyards with all the others.

I will, Devin said, and set off in the direction of the sounds of festivities in progress.

Even in the outer courtyards, things were more lavish than he could have imagined. There were people everywhere, although most seemed to be merchants and burghers rather than truly common folk. There were whole roast boars, and trestle tables set with more food than Devin had seen before. He was more than hungry enough to grab a wooden trencher and pile it high with swan and grouse, buttered parsnips and suet dumplings. Picking at it gave him an excuse to wander through the crowd, avoiding the dancing as a trio of minstrels played, trying to work out what he was going to do next.