THE MERITS OF MAGIC
I knocked three times on the simple wooden door and waited each and every excruciating second, hoping no one would answer, but footsteps on the other side of the door proved me wrong. The door opened and there stood Po’s grandmother, a stout lady dressed in her kitchen robes, holding a baby nearly a year old.
“Oliver Quartermaine? The Nine bless us with your presence, my young lord!” Her voice was cheerful and without contempt, even though she had every right to hate me. This must have been where Po had gotten his positive demeanor.
“A pleasure, m’lady. Is Po here? He wasn’t at the Workshop barracks.”
“Oh, you flatter me, but you know I’m not a lady. But yes, he is, one moment,” she replied as she escaped back into the Kentaro kitchens. She pushed Po to the door on
