A pair of chairs moved from the walls to the desk, stopping behind us.


    More invisible people? I wondered and sat down.


    Well, to call them chairs would be a disservice. They were the fluffy leathery type. Like a sofa, but not quite.


    Bonte sat down and relaxed.


    The old Tigea poured tea in the cups and moved two towards us. “Blue Point,” he disclosed with a smirk. “From my own garden.”


    “Garden? You?” Bonte chuckled in disbelief.


    Grand Master


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    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


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    Natasha...


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