"This place looks like a maze at a festival fun house, with all these mirrors," the young woman whispered. Even so, her voice echoed in the rotunda. "They make me feel as if we're being watched."
"I wouldn't rule it out," muttered Guerrand with a shiver. "Let's just find his laboratory and some evidence so we can get out of here."
Esme nodded. "It's a sure bet he didn't leave a checklist lying around that says: 'Ways to Kill Guerrand.' " Her gaze traveled to each of the four large doorways. "Should we just start turning knobs?"
"I have a less risky idea," said Guerrand, rummaging around in the pouch that hung over his shoulder. He withdrew the mirror, brushing away flecks of lint, and mentally summoned his familiar. Zagarus tumbled out, startling both bird and woman.
She knows about me? asked Zag. Guerrand nodded his head.
"A sea gull!" cried Esme. "And such a magnificent one. I love the black-and-white markings on its head."
"Zagarus is a he. Uh," Guerrand continued hastily as Esme reached out a hand, "Zag doesn't like to be pet-" To Guerrand's surprise, Zag preened happily under the hand on his feathered head.
Such an observant judge of avian superiority can pet me anytime, the sea gull nearly purred.
"If you two are finished admiring each other," Guerrand said aloud so both could hear him, "I have a job for Zag." The bird was instantly alert. "First, get back into the mirror."
Hey!
Frowning, Guerrand clamped a hand around his familiar's beak. "Just do as I say, Zag. We don't have time for petulance."
Zagarus blinked at the hand on his beak. Guerrand quickly withdrew it and held out the mirror. Zagarus dipped his head, as if trolling for fish, and disappeared inside the shard's glassy surface.
"Good," said Guerrand. He strode to within two paces before the door to his left, knelt down, and set the mirror on the cold marble floor. Esme had trailed him. She watched, curious but silent as he took a wad of gum arabic from his pouch. Closing his eyes, Guerrand conjured a mental picture of the bones and muscles of his right arm stretching like hot taffy. "Voli-gar et," he said firmly. Instantly, even before he opened his eyes, came the gentle tearing in his limb that told him his spell had worked.
He reached out with the elongated limb and pushed the mirror three-quarters under the door, keeping his fingers on the jagged edge. "I've sent the mirror across the threshold, Zag. Pop your head up on the other side and tell me what you see."
I'm in a wide, empty hallway, said the bird. It looks like it leads to the kitchen.
"All right, get back in the mirror," he said, sensing Zag's desire to explore. "I'll pull you over."
I'm inside. Zag's disappointment was obvious.
Guerrand reeled back his three-foot-long arm, bringing with it the mirror. He turned to Esme, who looked impressed with his tactics. "Zag says this one goes to the kitchen. We'll have to keep trying."
She nodded. "While you're doing that, I'll look around, see if I can find something odd," she suggested.
"Don't touch anything," he warned, watching her take tentative steps toward the center of the room.
Guerrand turned back to his own task. Scooping up the mirror, he followed the curve of the rotunda to the right, stopping a safe distance before the next door, where he repeated the process.
"What do you see?" he prompted Zag.
I'm not sure, he mumbled. It's another hallway, darker than the last, but I think I can make out a staircase.
Guerrand felt hope flutter in his chest. "Back in you go," he commanded, then waited a few moments before drawing the mirror back, taking it up in his long fingers.
Suddenly he heard a scream behind him. Esme! He whirled about and spied her on a shield-sized platform that was rapidly rising skyward from a shaft in the center of the rotunda's floor. She clamped off a second terrified scream with one hand. Dropping into a crouch, the young woman used the other hand to grip the side of the circle of marble as it brought her ever closer to the sunlit opening in the peak of the rotunda.
Guerrand ran to the base of the shaft. "Hang on!" he called up. Stuffing the mirror in his pack, he looked desperately for some lever on the thick metal column that rose several stories above on the platform of marble. He found none. Guerrand began to fear she'd be shot out of the opening like a stone from a catapult.
Near the top, the shaft ground to a stop. "I'll think of some way to get you down!" he called lamely.
"Do you think this thing will lower itself? Oh, bother," he heard her mutter. "I won't wait for that. Stand back," she called, kneeling at the edge of the platform to address him directly.
"Esme, no!" Guerrand yelled, but he was too late.
Esme threw herself from the platform. Horrified, Guerrand ran beneath her, expecting to catch her, or at least break her fall. The young mage plunged for a heartbeat, but then her decent slowed until she was floating gently like a feather to the floor. Smiling, Esme did a dramatic one-foot landing.
"Feather fall spell," she explained calmly, considering the mixture of horror and relief on Guerrand's face.
"Next time tell someone what you're about to do," her companion growled.
"I'm fine, if you're wondering," Esme said lightly, ignoring his anger.
Abruptly both apprentices jumped away from the parqueted marble as the shaft began to move again, sinking soundlessly back into the floor. The platform looked once more to be a seamless circle of inlaid black marble.
Hey, that looked like fun, said Zagarus, who'd left the confines of the mirror.
"Everyone, stay away from the parqueted shapes," commanded Guerrand, scowling at Zag's response. "Standing on that inner circle must have activated a trap."
As traps go, it seemed harmless enough, said Zagarus. Aren't you the least bit curious to learn what the other shapes do?
"What if they release an army of bugbears or wraiths, or kill intruders instantly?" Guerrand asked aloud, snorting. "I think I can live without knowing any of that."
If Belize was concerned about anyone getting in, posed Zagarus, why didn't he trap the. doors? We've encountered nothing the least bit threatening.
"That's what worries me," said Guerrand, scratching his head. "I just don't understand why he's made it so easy for strangers to get in."
"Maybe," suggested Esme, "he assumes everyone is cowed by his position and wouldn't dare break in."
Guerrand gave a humorless smile and a shake of his head. "All the guessing in the world won't give us those answers. The second door seems like it might lead to Belize's laboratory. Let's get back to the task, while luck is still on our side. Zag? Hey, where are you?"
Guerrand turned around just as the curious sea gull stretched out a webbed foot, placing it on a red triangle in the parquet pattern.
"Zagarus!"
The cry came too late. The marble floor abruptly opened beneath them all. Man, woman, and bird tumbled through dark, fetid air. Squawking his startlement, Zagarus took to wing. The sea gull floated up, looking for a way out, or at least a crack of light.
Beneath him, Guerrand and Esme plummeted like rocks, without even time to think of a saving spell. In a tangle of limbs, they crashed onto a hard flagstone floor. Wincing, Guerrand rolled off his right side and away from Esme. He did a quick check and felt badly bruised but otherwise unhurt.
Guerrand looked over his shoulder at Esme. She was on her side in a motionless heap, her face turned away. Then he saw her left leg and gasped. It was twisted at an impossible angle, obviously broken. She's lucky she's unconscious, he thought. That leg's going to hurt like the Abyss when she comes to. Biting his lip, he forced himself to very gently realign the leg. Unconscious, Esme groaned.