Our reception in the Faerie Queen’s court, as expected, has been icy. (Not so with the populace which are accommodating and friendly enough – but then again they are not privy as to why we are here). We were dismissed with a nod each and ushered off to our own wing of the palace, where we are being made to wait for word about the time of our hearing.
The High Fairy was allowed to deliver our petition to her prime minister once we were settled. We can only wonder what will happen next.
Dunfallon was more restless than usual. He and I were allowed out into the adjacent garden which kept my pixie friend amused for a matter of fifteen wingbeats before his restlessness resurfaced. Before he could climb the wall I talked him back into our apartments to explore the bookshelves in one corner of the room assigned to me.
Dunfallon found a tome on breeding dragons and I read with interest one which covered in great detail the bell called the Crack of Doom. As I held it in my lap reading, I sensed palpably darkness leaning over my shoulder.