CHAPTER ELEVEN
Well, not quite. The ‘mushroom’ was a wizened old man who stood a few inches below five feet. He had pointed ears and a long nose that ended in a bulb shape. His face was thin, his chin pointed, and his eyes sharp. He wore a plain shirt and pants held up by suspenders. His feet were covered by clogs without socks, and his long, gnarled hands were covered in rings of all shapes and sizes, though most of them were golden. The top of his head was bald, but a line of thick brown hair encircled his cranium behind his ears.
He frowned at us. “What do you want?”
Luca smiled and bowed his head. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Director. We wish to see your books.”
The Director stared at us hard for a long moment before he finally gave his answer. “No.”
He slammed th
