CHAPTER VIII. The hut was bigger than it appeared from the outside. Quite impossibly

so. But the sheer volume of clutter made the space still feel cramped, and one did not notice

the paradox at first. There also seemed to be a door beside the fireplace that led to another

room, and Fenwick was fairly certain that

was in no way reflected by the building's exterior, but he thought it best to let that go.

The old man smiled as he handed Fenwick a cup of tea. The Red Panda nodded his thanks,

and took the cup with some trepidation. He was more astonished by the contents of the simple clay

cup than he had been by the room itself. It's Earl Grey, he said in surprise. Of course it is.

The old man smiled, settling down on a mat opposite where his guest sat. We aren't savages.

My apologies, Fenwick began, but the man shrugged,

and it was clear that he was not offended.

You come about Maxwell Falcone, the old man said.

It was not a question.

How did you know that?

The Red Panda said, surprised. I do not get a lot of visitors,

his host said with a smile. One white man stops by, looking for something insanely dangerous.

I hear nothing more from him, and then another one comes by. It seemed logical. The younger man looked grim.

I wonder if it is as simple as all that, he said. Ah! The old man smiled. That is a good trick,

the way you clouded your mind just now so that I could not read

your thoughts.

Very clever, and not magical either.

Very effective.

...