Still, I went over to investigate the bag. It was full of money—silver locks and even some golden sun coins. More money than I knew what to do with. I hid it away on a shelf behind some books and went to the door to have a look at the lock. I was just about to bring out my lockpick wires to see if I could open and close it—just to keep myself sharp—when the door was flung open, knocking me over, and Miss Dimity stepped into the room. I scrambled to my feet, shoving the wires back into my pocket. “The dragon is not here with the ducal magister,” she announced to the green-liveried servants behind her. “It is safe to enter.” Some of the servants brought coal and started a fire; she waved the rest to a table near the hearth. After eyeing the deep scratches on the back of the chair Pip liked to perch on, she gave me one of her scraped-on smiles. “Ducal Magister,” she said, with a stiff bow. “Your dinner.” She handed me a napkin and pointed at the Pip-scratched chair. I sat in it.
