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The portion of wall described by the pilasters disappeared, revealing the interior of a charmingly furnished apartment. The two Guardsmen on the other side of the portal came to attention. They saluted as he walked through. He nodded.

“How goes it?” he asked one.

“All’s well, sire.”

“Is my family up and about yet?”

“It is still early morning here, sire.”

“Pity to wake them, but I must. I’m running out of time.”

“You will prevail, sire.”

He smiled. “I believe you.”

He moved through a large sitting room that opened onto a veranda and bright blue morning. Next were several utility rooms, and then a long hallway, at the end of which two more Guardsmen stood flanking an intricately carved wooden door. They saluted, then one man carefully opened the door for him. He stepped through, and the door closed quietly behind him.

He checked the children’s suite first. His son had thrown off the bed covers. He spread a blanket over the sleeping boy, then went into his daughter’s room. She lay on her back, sunlight making her small, oval face glow with radiant innocence. He touched his lips to her forehead, then smoothed her long dark hair. He moved to the window and adjusted the blind so that the light wouldn’t wake her.

He walked quietly into the master bedroom. His wife was sitting up in bed, smiling at him.

“I heard you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I was awake.” She held out her arms. “Come.”

They lay together quietly for a moment.

At length she said, “It’s over?”

“Not quite.”

“Then there is no change? We’ll lose the castle?”

“That may be.”

She rolled to her side and faced him. “I don’t care. We have a good life here.”

“We do. But that is not the issue.”

“What is, then? You are vice-regent here. Is that not enough power, enough wealth?”

“Dearest, it’s hardly a question of lust for riches or power.”

She frowned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Don’t be.”

“I never wanted to be queen. I care nothing for that wasteland and its drafty old castle. I’m sorry. I don’t.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter.”

“You love it so. It’s such a pity. I cry for you.”

“Do not. I have not lost it yet.”

“Oh, she is evil beyond measure, beyond understanding.”

“She is mad, poor woman.”

Poor woman?How can you think her deserving of pity when —”

He covered her mouth and made a shushing sound.

She was silent.

He removed his hand, kissed her cheek and said, “I must go.”

“So soon?”

“Something has come up. A matter that needs my closest attention. Actually, it is a bit of hope.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. But I will know more after some investigation.”

He got up and went to the open window, looked out. A bright low sun threw spider webs of light across the sea, and the breakers churned and foamed in sparkling silver and blue-green. Nearby a tall palm swayed in the salt breeze.

He turned toward the bed. She knelt with her thighs wide, a stripe of morning light across her high breasts, her dark eyes sad and pleading. He held out his arms and she sprang from the bed and came to him. They embraced in sunlight.

“Stay,” she said. “Let that world end, if it must.”

“You don’t mean it,” he said, caressing her soft skin.

“Of course not. But may I not have my secret wishes?”

“I have mine,” he said. “In my arms now.”

“My belovèd!”

They moved to the bed. Because he thought it might be the last time, he cherished every touch, every throb of fire, every thrust of her hips against his, every sound she made, and all the love she had to give him.

Afterward she lay with eyes closed. He got up and dressed, making few sounds. For a few moments he regarded her lithe sun-browned body stretched out across the sheets. Then he turned to go.

“Incarnadine.”

He stopped. “Yes, my love?”

She was sitting up. “How many worlds do you inhabit? How many lives do you lead?”

He grinned. “If I had more than one life, my dearest bride, I would give them all to you.”

Her smile faded as he left.

Lower Levels

“Beware the girl. She is a witch.”

There were only five soldiers left and four prisoners to dispose of. But they were an efficient unit. One stayed behind to guard Melydia and the servants.

They marched double file, a soldier and a prisoner, the sergeant-major, who now commanded, in the lead with Linda. Leaving the Hall of the Brain, they walked the passageway that circumscribed it, then took one of the corridors that radiated outward.

Gene was thinking furiously. He knew Linda was too. He hoped she could come up with something. He had no doubt that time was rapidly running out. These guys weren’t going to buy them lunch, that was for sure. These guys didn’t buy anyone lunch, or drink Perrier with a twist of lime, or put on their Asics Tigers in the morning and run five miles, or talk about their Porsches or their BMWs, any of that stuff. They didn’t ordinarily do much but eat, sleep, and kill, with a little rape thrown in for savor.

They turned left at a cross tunnel, proceeding down it until they came to a small alcove.

“This is far enough,” the sergeant-major barked. He drew his sword. “Let’s be about it.”

My God, Gene thought as the soldier guarding him pushed him toward the alcove, they are actually going to kill us.

A deep-throated growl came from farther down the tunnel.

The sergeant-major whirled. Out of the shadows bounded a tawny, full-maned lion in royal rage, its bared teeth white and gleaming, though not as brightly nor as fearsomely as the dentition belonging to the saber-tooth tiger that stalked angrily behind him.

However, it was the leopard that ran past both of them and tore out the sergeant-major’s throat. Then the scene in the tunnel became two-dozen episodes of Wild Kingdom running at once.

“Gene! In here! Everybody!”

It was Linda, huddling in the alcove. Gene leaped, tripped over a charging cougar, and fell against Jacoby, knocking him into the alcove and on top of Linda. Kwip jumped in, and suddenly all was dark.

There came a muffled protest. “Mr. Jac —”

“What happened?” Jacoby warbled.

“Get … off me!”

“Terribly sorry.”

A light came on. Gene looked up at the Coleman lantern hanging by a chain from the ceiling, then saw that the alcove was now sealed off by a wall.

“Linda? Are you okay?”

She sat up and blew air upwards to brush the wisp of hair off her eyes. “Yeah. Now the ropes. Any suggestions?”

“A simple knife, maybe,” Gene said.

“Okay, catch.”

Gene felt the handle in his hands. “You’re getting great at this.”

“Life and death situations make for good practice. You try that, I’ll try my Cuisinart.”

“Huh?”

“Without the plastic cover. See? Those are the chopping blades. I cut myself on them once or twice trying to wash them. Now if I can just do it without —”

Linda got free first and cut Gene’s bonds, then Jacoby’s and Kwip’s.

“Those big cats?” he asked. “Why didn’t they bother us?”

“I created them with a real craving for fresh soldier meat.”

“Nasty.”

“Those bastards were going to kill us.” She held her head and shook it woefully. “Look what this place has done to me. Those men are dead.”

“As cat food, they had their finest hour. Don’t fret about it, Linda. You did what you had to do. By the way, I loved the saber-tooth. Nice touch.”