Kraft picked up a third drink.
The red liquid wasn't alcohol, but some kind of sweet, refreshing fruit juice. He recognized several berries he'd tasted over the past few days, and the slight tartness from a little lemon juice made it perfect for cutting through the richness at a banquet where meat took up most of the menu.
The mushrooms were even more impressive. The varieties were plentiful, and their texture rivaled that of the cultivated strains known to the Otherworld Soul. The White-Belly Mushroom slices recommended by Professor Brimmer, paired with minced meat and a spiced sauce, were rich and savory with protein and fat, and their delicate, succulent texture even surpassed that of roasted meat.
Perhaps the chef still had room to improve his techniques, but the quality of the ingredients proved that fine food really did need little preparation—or none at all. The food kept Kraft at the table a little longer, and under the odd glances of those around him, he ate until he was thoroughly full.
Kraft took a small sip of juice to cut the grease, then left the table with the remaining half-cup. By a side door, he found a corridor leading to an adjoining hall. One side of the semi-open passage was lined with numerous small rooms, probably intended as temporary resting spaces.
A servant carrying a tray came toward him. The matching cups had already been collected, and a silver wine decanter with a floral clasp on its handle wobbled on the somewhat unsteady wooden tray, its base making faint clinks against the wood.
"Excuse me, is the Medical School gathering this way?" Kraft held out a hand in front of the tray and stopped the servant.
The servant seemed not to have expected another guest to arrive, and the sudden