“Needs to be outfitted,” said Thrang, stroking his beard. “Be no good taking him dressed like that.”

“Dressed like what?” Alex asked, looking down at his clothes.

“You’re hardly dressed for an adventure.” Thrang laughed.

“I wasn’t planning to go on an adventure,” Alex answered defensively. “I wasn’t planning any of this.”

“The best ones never do,” said Thrang.

“May I ask, then,” said Arconn in a slightly concerned tone, “why did you come here?”

“What?” Alex asked.

“How did you enter Mr. Clutter’s shop, and more important, whydid you enter Mr. Clutter’s shop? It’s not as if just anyone can get in, after all.”

“I saw a sign in the window,” Alex replied. “The sign seemed to change every time I looked at it, so I thought I’d ask about it in the bookstore.”

“I see,” said Arconn, leaning back into his chair. “And do you think anyone else noticed the sign?”

Alex thought. “Sildon Lane was strangely empty when I noticed the sign. I was going to ask someone in the street if they noticed the sign changing, but when I looked around, there was nobody there.”

“’Course not,” said Thrang in a matter-of-fact tone. “That’s because you weren’t really there either.”

“What do you mean? Of course I was there. If I wasn’t there, how could I have seen the sign?”

“An interesting question,” Arconn said in an understanding voice, “as not many people ever see the sign, and fewer still ever ask about it.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Alex, not liking the way the conversation was going. All of this talk about people not seeing a sign that was in plain view concerned him. “I really should be going,” he continued quickly. “Mr. Roberts will be looking for me soon, and—”

“He won’t be looking at all,” said Arconn calmly. “Because, in fact, you haven’t been gone long at all.”

“But I have,” Alex insisted. “It must be an hour or more since I left.”

“He don’t understand,” said Thrang, looking amused. “He don’t know what we’re on about.”

“No, I understand,” said Alex. “But I really should be getting back. I have a lot of work to do at the tavern—”

“Let me explain,” said Arconn, cutting Alex off and motioning for him to sit down in a chair. “I promise, you won’t be late getting back to your work if you’ll just listen.”

Alex sat down on the edge of his chair, not sure he really wanted anything explained to him. Since entering the shop, every time he’d managed to get a question answered things seemed to make less sense.

“We are adventurers,” Arconn began.

“He knows that much,” Thrang interrupted. “You’ve got to tell him why he won’t be late getting back to work.”

“Of course,” said Arconn. “But I want to go step-by-step, so he will understand exactly what is happening.”

“Oh, fluff,” said Thrang, blowing air out of his mouth loudly. “You’re telling him like he was a child. Just give it to him plain and let him think it over.”

“Very well,” said Arconn. “I suppose you’re right.”

Alex’s eyes moved from Thrang to Arconn. He thought he should just leave, but part of him—the part that wanted to believe in adventures and magic—made him stay to hear what Thrang and Arconn had to say.

“The first thing you need to know is about magic,” said Arconn. “The sign in the window is a magic sign. That’s why it seemed to change every time you looked away from it.”

“Magic?” asked Alex.

“Don’t interrupt,” said Thrang, making himself more comfortable in his chair. “Jus’ listen to everything, then think it over.”

“You saw the sign because the sign called to you, or showed itself to you, if you like,” Arconn continued. “And you didn’t walk into a bookshop, you walked into Clutter’s Adventure Shop.”

Alex leaned forward, feeling he should say something, but a stern look from Thrang stopped him.

“When you entered the shop, you passed through a magic gateway,” Arconn said. “Gateways are a bit difficult to explain, as they only open when they are needed, and then only for certain people. Only a true adventurer could see the magic sign and pass through the gateway, so you must be an adventurer, even if you don’t know it.”

Alex shifted in his chair but didn’t say anything. None of this made any kind of sense to him, but strangely, he found himself wanting, even trying, to believe what Arconn was saying.

“Time as you know it doesn’t matter here, because no matter how long you stay on this side of the gateway, you’ll never be late for anything on the other side of it. When you go on an adventure, time is real enough, but that’s only time where you are,not where you came from,” Arconn continued.

Alex thought for a minute. Arconn’s explanation was clear enough, but still, Alex couldn’t believe that time could be different here.

If he accepted the idea of magic, and the simple fact that a dwarf and an elf were sitting in front of him made magic seem possible, then it all made sense. The trouble was, even if he wanted to believe in magic, that didn’t make it real.

“When you go on an adventure, time passes normally,” Arconn said. “You get older, grow larger, everything. Then, when you complete the adventure and return through the gateway, you return to the way you are now.”

“That’s right,” Thrang said with a smile. “Wouldn’t do to get home and be years older than when you left, would it? Being gone for only a few seconds and aging several years would be hard to explain to anyone.”

“Yes, I suppose it would,” Alex admitted.

“And when you go on another adventure, you can choose what age you want to start at,” Arconn added. “Of course, you have to choose from the ages you were in a previous adventure.”

“What?” Alex asked.

“It’s simple,” Thrang answered. “Say you was on a ten-year adventure. By the time you get done, you’d be twenty-five. You can’t go back home being twenty-five—not if you left at fifteen only a few seconds before. So when you get back, you magically return to the age you were when you started. Then later you go on another adventure, but you don’t want to start at twenty-five and get older, and you don’t really want to start at fifteen again. So you can choose to start somewhere between the two—like twenty.”

“Oh,” said Alex, nodding his understanding. It made sense the way Thrang and Arconn explained it, but part of him still felt like he should be getting back to the Happy Dragon.

“If you’re willing to accept the fact that there’s magic involved, everything else is easy,” Arconn finished with a smile.

“It does make things simpler,” Alex admitted.

For several minutes Alex sat quietly and thought about what Arconn and Thrang had said. It all made sense— ifthere was such a thing as magic. If not, then he would be very late getting back to work and in for a real scolding.

“Just bring the tea in, then, shall I?” Mr. Clutter questioned, pushing the door open and stepping into the room. “Nice bit of green tea and some cakes.”

“That will be fine,” replied Arconn, without looking away from Alex.

Alex watched Mr. Clutter as he carried a large, silver tray into the room. It was easier to watch Mr. Clutter than to think about magic and gateways and adventures because then he didn’t have to decide if he believed in any of it.

“Come on, then,” said Mr. Clutter, looking at one of the tables next to the wall.

To Alex’s amazement, the silver lamp on the table jumped onto the second table and the first table walked awkwardly into the empty space between Alex, Thrang, and Arconn.

Rubbing his eyes in disbelief, Alex felt completely numb. The table started to spin as he watched it, and right before his eyes it changed. What had been a small, rectangular table was now a large, round table. Mr. Clutter sat the tea tray on the tabletop without a care.

“How’s it going, then?” Mr. Clutter asked.