The Rogue Knight by Brandon Mull

towns have been found empty.”
    â€œReally?” Cole asked.
    â€œIt eerily matches your trouble with Carnag in Sambria,” Hannibal said. “But this only came to my attention two weeks ago.”
    â€œSomebody took down Carnag,” Cole volunteered.
    â€œI heard that,” Hannibal replied. “Any idea who did it?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” Cole said. Was there anything he could share to sound less boring? “I heard some legionnaires were involved. What do people know about this new problem in Elloweer?”
    â€œVery little,” Hannibal said. “Nobody who gets close ever returns. Our leaders are already beginning to panic. Like I said, the problem reminds everyone of Carnag. Forgive me for prying, but what brings you to Elloweer, Master Toad?”
    â€œI’m . . . um . . . visiting,” Cole said.
    â€œSurely you have some business here. Perhaps I can help. I have many friends.”
    â€œI’m with people,” Cole said, trying not to give away anything. “I don’t have business of my own.”
    â€œYour affairs are private,” Hannibal said. “I understand. Should you wish to confide in me, I spend most of my time in this chamber. I expect to remain here for the next hour.”
    â€œThanks,” Cole said, unsure how well he had done. Should he have given up a big secret? Should he have pressed harder for information? The bearded man returned to the sofa. Cole hadn’t noticed Mira leaving the room, but he no longer saw her. Everyone was engaged in conversation, so he decided to try his luck elsewhere.
    He went through a door and entered a less formal lounge where people reclined on divans and huge pillows. Near one wall an attendant polished a counter, avoiding the food and drinks on display. In a corner, a man tapped a massive xylophone while a woman played a flute.
    Once in the room, Cole could no longer detect any sound of the string quartet. Of the six other people in the room, only two were talking. One guy hovered near the food counter with a drink in his hand; an old woman napped on a divan; a plump man hunched over a circular ottoman, studying an arrangement of playing cards; and a coldly beautiful young lady sat regally in a huge armchair like an empress on her throne.
    Crossing to one of the mirrors in the room, Cole found that he looked like a middle-aged Italian guy, short but muscular. Seeing the reflection helped Cole realize he didn’t need to let everyone know this was his first time in a confidence lounge. As long as he didn’t divulge important information, he could be anybody he wanted, act however he chose. He couldn’t do much worse than his first conversation. Maybe he’d do better if he loosened up.
    Surveying the room, Cole tried to relax. The guy playing cards struck him as the most approachable. Cole walked over and sat near him. “How are you?”
    The man didn’t look up from his game of solitaire. “Content. You?”
    â€œJust looking for news.”
    â€œI’m Stumbler. What are you called?”
    â€œDracula,” Cole answered for no good reason.
    â€œNever heard of you,” Stumbler said. “What song do you sing?”
    â€œKaraoke hits from the sixties, seventies, and eighties,” Cole tried.
    The man looked up from his cards. “What nonsense are you talking? Go bother someone else before I complain to the management.”
    Joe had warned Cole not to lie. Apparently, that included joking. So much for his experiment with relaxed improvisation. Cole decided to move on rather than risk really annoying Stumbler. He stood up to find the beautiful young woman staring at him. She wore a snug, glittering gown that reminded him of fish scales. She curled her finger, summoning him over.
    As Cole drew near, he tried to remind himself that she could easily be an ugly old lady. Or even a grungy old man. He shouldn’t let her looks intimidate him.