Part 13 (1/2)

Though Collins now stood squarely on bare feet, Falima still held his shoulder as she asked, ”Did Aisa get Vernon out safely?”

*He's with me,* Prinivere confirmed. *From what I can get, the royals have identified Zylas.

Then, Carrie Quinton ordered Ben killed and locked up Zylas.*

Collins wriggled feet becoming dangerously cold and wondered where they had left his backpack.

”Locked him up? He was already locked up.” He glanced directly at Falima, then at Ialin from the corner of his eye, wondering if he had missed something. The woman nodded agreement, and even Ialin seemed interested in the answer.

*In a rat-sized cage.*

Falima gasped; and, this time, Collins knew he had failed to consider something important. He kept his mouth shut, hoping it would come out in context, but he could not help wondering, What? Is he a claustrophobic rat?*At noon...* Prinivere started, then left Collins to finish.

”He turns into a human and... and what happens?”

Ialin said gruffly, ”If the iron's st.u.r.dy enough, it crushes him dead.”

Something wet splashed Collins' cheek, and he glanced at Falima. Spidery red lines wound through her eyes, the lids half-closed in pain.

”Not Zylas.” Collins put a comforting arm around Falima, and she folded against him. Though well-muscled, she felt strangely small and helpless to Collins, who could never have imagined her surrendering to despair. He wondered if her relations.h.i.+p with the albino went deeper than he had known, despite the vast difference in their ages, surprised to suffer a flare of jealousy. He could no longer deny his feelings for her. He drew himself up, willing a determination he did not feel. ”So we have to rescue him before noon tomorrow.” He shrugged, as if it were the simplest matter in the world. ”We can do that.”

Ialin nodded, though the gesture seemed more habitual than rea.s.suring. He had clearly weathered a lot for this cause, and it never seemed to end.

*You still have the right to go home whenever you wish. You don't have to risk yourself for this.*

Though cautiously sent and clearly intended out of fairness, Prinivere's reminder irritated Collins. He turned on the dragon with a tone that surely baffled his companions, who had not received the message.

”I'm not going anywhere till I know Zylas is safe. I got him into this mess-”

Falima interrupted, ”No, he got himself into it. He insisted on going, and-”

”It was my fault.” Collins' voice cracked, and he felt tears building, ”I got us caught. I did something very very stupid.”

Ialin's head rose and swiveled toward Collins. His expression still presented an image of sorrow, but his eyes gained the stormy darkness that had become so familiar to Collins. Even Falima stiffened.

”There's a mirror in Carrie's room. It reflected me as me-the real me, not the illusion. I thought the disguise had worn off. I... thought my cover... gone, and I panicked. I didn't think things through clearly and... ” Collins swallowed hard, and the tears dribbled down his cheeks. ”I'm sorry.” Now, he could almost feel Prinivere scanning his mind for details.

*A mirror that sees through illusions is magical.*

”Clearly.” Ialin scratched his head, rearranging the disarray of his hair into further chaos. ”But why would Carriequinton have such a thing?”

Prinivere squinted, and her eyes disappeared amidst the scaly folds of her aged face. *Seeing through illusions may not be its primary power. Any magical mirror would cut through to the truth.*

Falima removed her hand from Collins, using the back to wipe tears from her cheeks. ”So what's the real purpose of this thing likely to be?”

Collins appreciated that the conversation had gone from his blunder to the significance of the mirror.

”If I had to guess, I'd bet it shows her face the way it used to look.”

*Very likely.* Though Prinivere agreed with Collins' a.s.sessment, she still appeared pensive, eyes lost amid the wrinkles. *Though that, too, might simply be a function of it being magical. It might not have anything to do with its intended purpose when it got magicked.*

Ialin made a thoughtful noise. ”So, if it has another power, Carrie might not even know about it.”

Now Collins frowned. As a scientist, he would examine and experiment with that mirror until hediscovered its every secret. He doubted Quinton would have done less. ”In any case, is it more likely to give away that her facial repairs are illusion? Or to show her her original face before the scars?”

*I... don't know,* the dragon admitted. *This is a distinctly unusual circ.u.mstance. If I had it here to examine... *

Stepping out of Collins' embrace, Falima continued to mop up tears with her sleeve. She had seen Quinton's repaired features and had, apparently, figured out the rest by context. ”Carriequinton obviously never planned to cooperate with us anyway, so it hardly matters when she realizes we tricked her.”

We? Collins appreciated that Falima accepted his deceit as a group decision. It made him feel like an integral part of the renegade operation, though he suspected her word choice had more to do with the fact that Prinivere had decided to a.s.sist in the duplicity. In college, he had supported liberal causes with the unambiguous moral certainty only a neophyte to the big bad world could muster.

As his personal burdens grew heavier, he had become essentially apolitical. He wondered what his friends and family would think if they knew he had deliberately embroiled himself in the sticky and perilously deadly affairs of another world.

Prinivere opened her enormous green eyes and rolled her gaze toward Falima. *I'm not so certain she never intended to cooperate. She did trust Ben enough to come with him alone. And she did eventually tell us where to find the dragons.*

Collins shook his head, having difficulty making sense of the matter. ”Why would she tell me, then try to have me killed?”

Falima and Ialin remained silent, without the necessary information to partic.i.p.ate fully in the conversation.

Prinivere paced out a cautious circle and lay back down in a new position. *She whispered the directions in your ear, remember? Then you left right away, without the chance to tell anyone else. Once you died, you couldn't pa.s.s it on. Or, if you lived, she figured you'd forget all those unfamiliar names before you could pa.s.s them along.*

Collins realized he already had.

*Even if you remembered, she knew it wouldn't do us any good.*

Collins recalled the earlier, unfinished conversation. ”Because this place is warded against switchers?” A light dawned. That's got to be the place Carrie considered a ”third world.”

*Right.*

”Why?”

Prinivere glanced at Ialin, who sighed, shrugged, then nodded wearily. Not long ago, he had cautioned the dragon not to tell Collins about this place at all and now she had pa.s.sed him the job.

”Because it's basically a dungeon, and a long-ago king worried that people might either try to release prisoners or blunder in and get themselves killed. The warding works both ways, so it also kept the prisoners from escaping.”

Collins paused to consider the words before asking any questions. The more he figured out on his own, the less Ialin would judge him. He knew the king had never warded his dungeon in a similar way, if for no other reason than that it would also exclude guards. However, the current king had nothing to do with the magic that kept switchers from the royal bedchambers either. In fact, he had written decrees banning the possession or use of magic by anyone in the kingdom, which suggested he might not know about Quinton's mirror and explained why she kept it hidden in the wardrobe. He guessed some ancient king had wanted prisoners housed farther from the castle while later ones preferred to keep enemies close and had moved the lockup to the bas.e.m.e.nt. Collins tried a different tack, ”Perhaps that kingwanted to keep the more violent criminals as far as possible from his home and family.”

Ialin's nostrils flared, and the corners of his mouth bent slightly upward. He did not seem disappointed with the direction of Collins' questioning. Yet.

Prinivere provided some a.s.sistance without giving Collins the answer. Perhaps she sensed the blow that might cause to his self-esteem. *And the most violent prisoners would be...*

meat eaters? Collins guessed, then cringed at the understanding that answer brought. ”It's the lockup for the Randoms who take the form of obligate carnivores?”

He cursed himself for answering too quickly. ”No, that's not right. King Terrin has them executed.”

”King Terrin,” Falima said, ”and several kings before him. But long ago, rulers tried imprisoning them.”