"Hey, out there! Help! I need help!"
"Sheila?" came a faint voice. "Sheila, is that you?"
"Pelu! Where are you?"
"I'm not sure. Some sort of storage room, I'd guess."
"Me, too. Are you all right? What about Dian?"
"I'm here with Pelu," Dian chimed in. "Neither of us is hurt. But there's no way out of this room!"
Sheila sighed. "I know. I've already tried."
A noise from the darkness behind her made Sheila whirl with a startled squeak.
"Sheila!" called Pelu sharply. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Sheila was too horrified to answer. One of the piles of tools was moving!
But then Sheila giggled in relief. That wasn't a pile of tools at all, of course not. It wasn't some nameless Thing, either. Kumuru evidently didn't have enough storage rooms available, because Sheila was sharing her cell with another prisoner.
She approached the huddled form hesitantly. "Are you all right?"
The figure stirred again and groaned pitifully. Sheila blinked. Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light by now, just enough for her to discern that this other prisoner was a man.
No! Not just a man—Mardock! It was Mardock!
Sheila took an instinctive step backward, then stopped and held her ground. The wizard was still unconscious. He was hardly any threat now. Mardock's robes were torn and stained, his hair and beard were wildly disheveled, and livid bruises marred his arms and pale face.
He must have gained consciousness somewhere along the way and tried to fight the rock-men, Sheila thought.
What a mistake that must have been! Fighting with the rock-men was probably like trying to overcome the force of an earthquake. No wonder he was unconscious!
Kumuru must have been more worried about the strength of Mardock's magic than he had admitted, because he had had the man wrapped round and round with chains so heavy Sheila doubted he could do more than turn his head. More to the point, the chains were made of cold, gleaming steel.
Stepping back, Sheila almost stumbled over a small, hard something that turned under her foot. She glanced down, then pounced.
"A key!" Sheila exclaimed, jubilantly.
But after that first rush of hope, she let out a long, sad sigh. This couldn't be the key to the door, because the door was locked from the outside. In fact, there was only one lock in this room that the key could possibly fit…
And sure enough, it did.
Sheila sat back on her heels in disgust. Great. Just great. This was the key to Mardock's chains. One of the rock-men must have dropped it; their hands were pretty crudely shaped, after all.
Just then, Mardock stirred again and his eyelids flickered open. The sorcerer was awake. He made a feeble attempt to stand, then fell back in his chains, staring grimly around the small room. And his gaze fell on Sheila.
"You!"
"I wish people would stop calling me that," Sheila complained. "I do have a name, you know."
Mardock shot her one quick, hate-filled glare, and then ignored her completely. Instead, he glanced around the room again, noting the locked door, and frowned. Only then did the sorcerer's eye return to Sheila again. He studied her as though seeing her for the first time.
"Why, you're a prisoner here, too! Now, that I did not expect."
Sheila gave him a puzzled stare. "You sound as though you knew you'd find me in the palace."
His eyes were scornful. "Somewhere hereabouts, yes. Why do you think I came here?"
"To steal the Dark Gods' power?"
"That, too, of course. That vain young idiot of a king doesn't deserve to wield it! Making up that incredible story that only he can safely touch the amulet—the fool! Let me but have the time to work my spells upon it, and the Amulet of Power shall be mine!" Mardock stopped to take a deep breath. In a much calmer voice he said, "Naturally I knew you were in Erech-ban. Am I not a sorcerer? I have no intention of losing you, my dear. Not until you teach me the secret of your magical device."
"The Tracker? Forget it, Mardock!"
He shrugged, chains rattling, and continued: "My magical spies told me what was happening with you, with the unicorns, enough to make me leave King Ankzar in Queelotoo and come here."
Sheila had to laugh. "Your spies don't like you too much, do they? I mean, they let you march right into danger. Look how you wound up, all . . . well . . . all wound up!"
"This is hardly a situation for humor! I suspect Kumuru plans to sacrifice us both."
"He does."
"And you lack that arcane pack you generally bear."
"My backpack? I guess Kumuru kept it."
"I take it that means you have no magical implements with you. No, of course you don't! Kumuru would not be so complete a fool." The sorcerer let out his breath in an angry sigh. "Then we are doomed. What a senseless way to die."
"Wait a minute, we're not dead yet!"
"Well, we're as good as dead! Kumuru knows I can work no magic while trapped in this—this steel cocoon!"
Sheila hesitated, chewing thoughtfully on her lip. There just might be a way out of this mess after all.
She held up the key. "Look what I found."
Mardock's eyes blazed. "Are you telling me you have the key to these chains?"
''I do.''
"Give it to me! Now!"
"Not so fast. If I set you free, what's to stop you from using your sorcery on me?"
Mardock forced a smile. "Why, you have my word on it!"
"Oh, come now, Mardock! How stupid do you think I am? We both know what your promise is worth."
His smile hardened. "What do you want, then?"
"How about a trade? Your freedom for my Tracker."
Mardock gave her a cold stare. "Now, how stupid do you think I am? I would hardly carry about such a valuable tool like a toy! The thing is perfectly safe, hidden where you shall never find it."
"Of course," Sheila said smoothly. "I was only testing you. Anyhow, I have a better bargain to make. You want the Amulet of Power, don't you?"
Mardock said nothing, but the sudden keen light in his eyes gave her her answer. She smiled.
"All right. I know where the amulet is. You can have it, and your freedom, if you let me out of here."
"Yes, yes, done!"
"Wait. Hear me out. You've got to get me and my friends out of this place."
"I said yes!''
"I'm still not finished. You've also got to break the spell on Illyria."
"What!" Mardock roared. "No! Never! Why should I want to help that—that woman?" He tried to fold his arms haughtily, but the chains wouldn't let him move that far. "Forget it, girl. We have no bargain."
"No?" Sheila twirled the key in her fingers. "You mean, you truly want to be sacrificed?" She shrugged. "Well, okay, then. I'll just call the rock-men back and give them this key."
"No! Wait!"
''Yes?"
"All right. All right!"
"We have a bargain, then? You'll let us out and break the spell on Illyria?"
Mardock glared at her. "Yes," he muttered reluctantly. "Now, unchain me before it's too late!"
As soon as he was free, Mardock staggered to his feet, wincing at the pain from his stiff muscles and various scrapes and bruises.
"You're all right?" Sheila asked doubtfully.
"Of course." Mardock wriggled his fingers, limbering them up, Sheila knew, for magic. "Kumuru has left many accounts unsettled. But once the Amulet of Power is mine, oh, he shall pay!"
"Uh . . . right. But first, let's just get out of here, okay?"
Mardock gave her a quick, scornful glance, then turned his attention to the door. He strode back and forth in front of it, muttering to himself. At last the sorcerer stopped, pointed an imperious pinkie, and uttered a sharp, twisting Word. The door creaked on its hinges—But nothing else happened.
Mardock raised an angry eyebrow. He repeated his Word, with a slightly different inflection. This time there was a sharp cracking sound and the door shook violently in its frame— But nothing else happened.
Sheila gave the door a good, hard look as Mardock raised his hand for another try. "Ah, excuse me," she said to the perspiring sorcerer, "have you tried-"
His glare was dark as a thundercloud. "Are you trying to teach me by business?"
''No, but I-"
"Stand aside!"
"Look, Mardock, your spell worked. The lock broke, I heard it."
"But the door will not open!"
"Well, no, not like that, it won't. It's kind of silly for you to waste your magic on it, when all we have to do is-"
“I said, stand aside!"
With a sigh Sheila obeyed. She watched the sorcerer try another and yet another spell. But though the door rocked back and forth, it still didn't open.
"Enough's enough," she said at last. "Now you stand aside." She put her hand on the door—and pulled it smoothly open. As Mardock stared in disbelief, Sheila gave him a sweet smile. "Don't feel badly about it. You're not the first person who's tried to push open a door marked Pull."
"Come," Mardock said shortly. "Let us get out of here.
With a melodramatic flourish the sorcerer cast open the door to the room holding Pelu and Dian. The two warriors gasped at the unexpected sight of the wizard, their hands fumbling for the swords no longer at their sides.
"Hey, no!" whispered Sheila. "He's on our side!"
"For the present," muttered Mardock darkly, sweeping out of the cell.
Sheila stopped a moment to scoop up her backpack from where one of the rock-men had dropped it. "Ha, and our swords, too." She grinned at Pelu and Dian, and then all three hurried after the wizard.
Sheila still had no idea whether it was day or night. Neither did the others. They hadn't yet seen one window to the outside world. It was like wandering around inside a gigantic cave. Come to think of it, Sheila decided, that was pretty much what this palace was: a giant, artificial cave cut into the mountainside.
Whatever time it might be, at least there were now people in the palace corridors, real, flesh-and-blood people, mostly servants in plain brown or gray robes, hurrying on their way to this or that errand. They weren't a problem. Oh, no, they were surprisingly easy to elude. Not really so surprising, Sheila mused. Servants of tyrants, she had noticed back when Dynasian still ruled Campora, were loath to notice anything that might interfere with their duties. Anything that might get them in trouble.
But detachments of the rock-men were stalking those corridors, too. Ominously silent for all their bulk, they swung their nearly featureless heads left and right, searching for trouble. Each time one of those eerie constructs appeared, the escaped prisoners would dart frantically into the nearest shadows.
So far they had been lucky. But Sheila, huddling with Pelu, Dian, and the angry-eyed Mardock, barely dared to breathe. She knew it was just a matter of time before a stony hand would close on her shoulder and drag her back to prison.
"Come on," she whispered to the others. "The coast is clear. Let's go!"
They made a wild dash down the passageway and into the audience hall.
To everyone’s relief it was empty except for the enchanted Illyria. But Sheila was sure it wouldn't stay that way for more than a few minutes. The Amulet of Power was on its table by the shining ruby throne. Kumuru certainly wasn't going to let that out of his sight for long!
Mardock still hadn't noticed the amulet, but had headed straight to the side of the stone bier. The wizard stood over the sleeping Unicorn Queen for a long time, his dark eyes distant and remote as he felt out the shape of the sorcery that bound her.
"It's no use!" he said at last in disgust.
"What do you mean?" Pelu's hand flew to the hilt of her sword. "Are you saying you can't break the spell?"
Mardock frowned at her. "Oh, I can break it, all right. I can shatter it. But the force of that exploding sorcery would probably kill us all!"
"I don't understand."
"That's no standard Sleep Spell, woman! That was set with inhuman power, Dark Gods' Power, and if I try to disspell it . . . Well, have you ever seen what happens when oil is cast onto flames?"
"But we can't leave Illyria here!" protested Dian. "Maybe we could carry her?"
"All that way, with no one stopping you?" Mardock mocked. "Why don't we just surrender now and get it over with?"
Sheila wasn't really listening to the others. Dark Gods' Power, eh? Well, so far she had proven completely immune to that Power. Why let its laws limit her now? Ordinary, magicless people were always breaking Sleep Spells in the fairy tales of her own world. If those stories weren't complete fantasy, there must be something they all had in common…
Oh. Of course.
Feeling more than a little foolish and scared that this wasn't going to work, Sheila inched closer to the bier. With a self-conscious smile, she leaned over and kissed Illyria on the cheek. Then she straightened, holding her breath ...
For what seemed like a long, long time, nothing happened. Sheila winced. It wasn't going to work. Of course it wasn't going to work. She had been foolish to think that something as simple as a— "Look!" whispered Pelu.
Was it only a trick of the torchlight? Or could it possibly be . . . ?
Yes! It was true! A tinge of pink was slowly suffusing Illyria's pale face. Softly she sighed, moving her head from side to side. A quiver of silver lashes, a flutter of her eyelids ...