The banquet hall had been remade in the short time since Davis had stepped into the courtyard.
Lanterns of pale gold and dusk-purple hung from the ceiling beams, their light catching on hanging silk banners that drifted as though the air itself had been taught to breathe. The long tables had been cleared of the earlier wreckage and laid again with fresh porcelain, steaming dishes, and drinks including wine that glowed like liquid amber.
The air carried the scent of roasted magical beast meat, night-blooming lotus, and the faint sweetness of aged spirit wine.
A line of maids waited at the threshold.
