Guerrand lowered himself wearily into a chair. "The mirror from which Belize took my shard is in his laboratory. Zag gave me the idea to jump inside when those monstrosities closed us in." He massaged his forehead. "We were just lucky it worked."
"You have no idea how fortunate you were," Justarius said sternly. "I've heard of mirrors such as the one you describe, but they're as rare now as crystal balls. They employ the same principle as teleportation, only the user needn't memorize an incantation. If I remember correctly, the bearer can pass through the magical mirror and reenter our world through any nonmagical mirror he can remember. To reenter the mirror world, he must carry a portion of the magical mirror."
Guerrand looked alarmed. "What keeps Belize from stepping through his mirror and exiting here, as we did?"
"You needn't worry," said Justarius with a shake of his head. "There are wards and protections on Villa Rosad that prevent unauthorized visitors."
Just then, Denbigh strode out of the bakery bearing a tray full of steaming food. The enormous monster lowered the tray to the table before the men. Wheezing and grunting in the manner of owlbears, he began to set the table for a meal.
Justarius took the plates from the owlbear's paws and sat by Guerrand. "That will be all, Denbigh, thank you," he said by way of dismissal. Nodding his enormous head once, Denbigh shuffled out of the lush peristyle.
"I haven't eaten for days, and you look in need of sustenance as well." Justarius looked pensive as he spread gooseberry preserves upon a piece of crusty bread. "Where were we? Oh, yes. You were describing what you saw in the lab."
Guerrand eyed the steaming food and realized he was starving. Taking a few bites of cracker, he summoned the memory of the groping limbs and soundless mouths. The cracker suddenly felt as dry as dust in his mouth, and he choked it down with great effort before answering. "Most seemed to be a mixture of transplanted human and animal body parts. Fleshless skeletons, exposed brains, human limbs replaced with an animal's-"
"That will do." Justarius wiped a bit of preserves from the dark triangular beard on his chin. He squinted thoughtfully at Guerrand. "Perchance did you see any works by Fistandantilus? Spellbooks, that sort of thing?"
Guerrand's eyes widened in surprise. "As a matter of fact, I did. There were two books. One was a very old spellbook by some wizard named-" Guerrand searched for the vague memory "-Harz-Takta, I think. The language of the spells was way beyond my ability, though I recognized a diagram of the Night of the Eye.
"The other book was by Fistandantilus, though all I saw was the title: Observations on the Structure of Reality." Guerrand snapped his fingers, remembering something else. "Above the lab, in the rotunda, was a bust of Fistandantilus, too. Does it mean something?"
"The name Harz-Takta is vaguely familiar, though I remember nothing specific." Justarius swallowed a mouthful of food, chasing it with lemon water before continuing. "But Fistandantilus's book leads me to believe that our friend Belize is pursuing an interest in gating, for which Fistandantilus was notorious."
Noting Guerrand's puzzled look, Justarius explained, "Gating is a means of traveling from one place to another by passing instantaneously through an extradimensional place. He must be using creatures to test the gates he creates. The creatures, unfortunately, are gating partially, or imperfectly, or combining with other things as they transport. The Night of the Eye diagram means he's anticipating the additional boost tomorrow's triple eclipse will bring to his magical experiments."
Justarius looked displeased as he helped himself to sliced pears. "These gating creations are not new. However, the practice of using test subjects, particularly nonanimals, has been banned by the Red and White Orders. I will have to report this," he mused.
"Are you're going to tell the conclave what he's doing there?" asked Guerrand.
"Yes, are you?" repeated Esme from the doorway. Guerrand looked up, shocked to see her leg expertly splinted. She stood easily with the support of one of Justarius's elaborate walking sticks.
"You're healed!" he cried.
"No, but I feel much better, thanks to Justarius's elixir and Denbigh's ministrations." Her eyes were on their master. "Will you, Justarius?" she pressed once more.
"I'll not address this to the entire conclave of twenty-one just yet. I must first consider how best to raise the issue of these gating experiments to Par-Salian and LaDonna, lest I give Belize the chance to destroy the evidence."
Justarius sighed heavily. "But it appears I'll be speaking to them about another issue first," he said, his grave tone commanding their attention. "Whether you realize it or not, your actions today were a serious breach of your vows to the order."
"What?" the apprentices cried.
"Breaking into Belize's home," explained Justarius, "violated the rule to never raise a hand in magic to one of the Red Robes. You also broke the laws of the city. Worse still, your tryst was just plain naive."
Justarius peered at them over steepled fingers. "Even the most lenient interpretation of the rules of our order demands that I report your transgressions to the respective heads of the robes."
Esme's face was pale as she stammered. "Wh-What will they do?"
Justarius rubbed his face wearily. "Considering that the transgression was against a member of the Council of Three, it's likely they will vote to suggest the other red representatives evict you both from the order."
Guerrand found his tongue at last, while Esme merely managed a gasp. "That's so unfair!" he shouted, fists clenched in rage. "I was just trying to defend myself. Belize is the criminal here, not Esme and me!"
"That is an issue I intend to take up," Justarius said. "However, it does not change the fact that you and Esme acted improperly, no matter how just your intentions."
The anger lines in Justarius's brow eased slightly. "You needn't look so crestfallen yet. It may be a minor disadvantage that everyone knows there is no love lost between Belize and myself. However, I will speak to the council on your behalf to prevent the Council of Three from voting to bring the issue to the Red Robes."
"Will that help?" Esme asked, choking back tears.
Justarius stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "I believe Par-Salian will weigh my support heavily. LaDonna's vote will be determined almost entirely by her mood at that moment." He frowned. "We know how Belize will vote."
The archmage tossed back the dregs of his lemon tonic. Dabbing his lips one last time, he dropped the napkin on the table and stood. "Enough said of these events. I'll be leaving for Wayreth immediately to address Par-Salian. I expect you're tired from the day's adventures and will want to retire to your rooms until I return." It was not a suggestion.
After Justarius left, Esme pulled Guerrand along toward her chamber. She pushed him through the antechamber into her sleeping quarters. He collapsed into the chair, pinning his pouch behind him.
"What are we going to do?" Esme demanded. She began to tidy the room compulsively, snatching a folded blanket from the cot, then refolding it.
Guerrand gave a listless shrug. "Wait for Justarius to summon us, I guess."
She threw the blanket on the cot. "You're not going to give up that easily, are you?"
Giving her a strange look, he removed the pouch from the small of his back and set it on the floor. "It's not a question of giving up, Esme. We're guilty. That's done."
She smashed a fist into her palm and began pacing with the aid of Justarius's staff. "I can't just sit here and wait for our execution!"