Incarceron

She stood quickly, brushing down her dress, hoping her face was not as pale as she felt.

On her left the hedge shuddered. A sword came through and hacked an opening, and his big silent bodyguard, Fax, stepped through, looked quickly around, then held open the branches. Through them came a thin youth, his mouth sour with dissatisfaction. He glared at her crossly. "Look at my clothes, Claudia. They re ruined. Quite ruined."

He kissed her coldly on one cheek. "Anyone would think you were avoiding me."

"So you've been expelled," she said calmly.

"I left." He shrugged. "Too boring. My mother sends you this."

It was a note, on white thick paper, sealed with the Queen's white rose. Claudia opened it and read.

My dear, You will have heard the good news that your wedding is imminent. After waiting all these years, am sure yours excitement is as intense as my own! Caspar insisted on coming to escort you here—such a romantic. What a handsome couple you will make. From now on, my dear you must think of me as your loving mother.

Sia Regina.

Claudia folded it. "Did you insist?"

"No. She sent me." He kicked the astrolabe. "What a bore getting married is going to be, Claudia. Don't you think?" She nodded, silent. 

12

The decay was gradual and we were slow to recognize it. Then, one day, I had been talking with the Prison, and as I left the room I heard it laugh. A low, mocking chuckle. The sound turned me cold. I stood in the corridor and the thought came to me of an ancient image I had once seen in a fragmented manuscript, of the enormous mouth of Hell devouring si

The sound of the unlocking was painful, as if the Prison sighed. As if this was a door that had not been opened for centuries. But no alarms howled. Perhaps Incarceron knew no door could lead them out.

Gildas stepped back at Fi

The door shuddered inward, and stuck.

For a moment they waited, because the narrow slit was dark and a cool, oddly sweetsmelling air moved beyond. Then Fi

Gildas nudged him. "Take a look. Be careful."

Fi

It was colder. His breath frosted. The ground was uneven, and ran downhill. As he took a few steps a strange ti

"Fi

Gildas was a shadow at the door.

"Wait." Fi

A few rustles and stirrings. Then Gildas said, "Bring the Key, Keiro. We need to shut this."

"If we do, can we get back?" Keiro sounded worn.

"What's to get back for? Give me a hand." As soon as the dog-slave had slipped through, Fi

A rustle. A scrape of sound. Light, steadying, in a lantern.

"Someone might see it," Keiro snapped.

But Fi

As Gildas held the lantern high, they looked around at the ominous enclosing pillars.

Finally Keiro said, "What are they?"

Behind him, the dog-creature crouched down. Fi

"Metal trees." The light caught the Sapient's plaited beard, the gleam of satisfaction in his eye. "A forest where the species are iron, and steel, and copper, where the leaves are thin as foil, where fruits grow gold and silver." He turned. "There are stories, from the old times, of such places. Apples of gold guarded by monsters. It seems they're true."

The air was cold and still. It held an alien sense of distance. It was Keiro who asked the question Fi

"Are we Outside?"

Gildas snorted. "Do you think it's that easy? Now sit before you fall." He glanced at Fi

'I'll deal with his wounds. This is as good a place as any to wait for Lightson. We can rest.

Even eat."

But Fi

"Before we go any further I want to know what Jormanric meant. About the Maestra's death."

There was a second of silence. In the ghostly light Keiro gave

Fi

Fi

While the Sapient poured water, Fi

In the shadows the dog-slave crouched, barely visible. Fi

"Take it," he whispered.

A rag-bound hand, crusted with sores, snatched it from him. While the creature ate he watched, remembering the voice that had answered him, a low, urgent voice. Now he whispered, "Who are you?"

"Is that thing still here?" Sore and irritable, Keiro pulled his jacket back on and laced it, scowling at the slashes and tears. Fi

"We dump it." Keiro sat, wolfed down the meat, and looked around for more. "It's poxed."

"You owe that thing your life," Gildas remarked.

Hot, Keiro glared up. "I don't think so! I had Jormanric where I wanted him." His eyes turned to the creature; then they widened in sudden fury and he leaped up, strode to where it crouched, and snatched away something dark. "This is mine!"

It was his bag. A green tunic and a jeweled dagger spilled out. "Stinking thief." Keiro aimed a kick at the creature; it jerked away. Then, to their astonishment, it said in a girl's voice, "You should be grateful to me for bringing it."

Gildas turned on his heel and stared at the shadow of rags. Then he stabbed a bony finger at it. "Show yourself," he said.

The ragged hood was pushed back, the wrapped paws unwound bandages and gray strips of binding. Slowly, out of the crippled huddle a small figure emerged, crouched up on its knees, a dark cropped head of dirty hair, a narrow face with watchful, suspicious eyes. She was layered with clothes strapped and tied to make humps and bulges; as she tugged the clotted wrappings from her hands, Fi