:Got ye, sir,: he thought back, hoping that he had properly understood those lessons from Dallen about how to think into the head of someone without Mindspeech so that they could hear him.

Good. I want you to relay my orders to the Guards. You have my permission; theirs is implicit.

Whatever that meant. If Caelen said it was allowed, it must be.

He opened his own mind a little further, to the four in his vicinity, and told them what Caelen told him. :Crouch low, crawl if you must. Stay below eye level. Do nothing until Caelen signals, no matter what you see or hear. Nod if you understand:

All four Guardsmen nodded, although one looked a little startled. Caelen signaled for all of them to move forward. You, too, Mags. You are going to be my eyes and ears. I am too old to crawl; all I will do is give the game away.

Well, Mags was used to crawling on his belly through narrow tunnels at need; this was nothing to him. He sheathed the sword, turned his belt around so that the scabbard was at his back, and flattened himself on the floor, skittering along noiselessly, like a lizard.

The door into the Archive room was open a crack. The large Guard eased it open as well. They all moved inside.

It was brighter here than in the outer room, but still dim. The worktable was overturned, and one of the chairs smashed, a box lying on its side with the contents strewn on the floor. Mags reported it all to Caelen.

Tell the redheaded Guardsman to work his way around the wall, with the rest of you following. I want you directly behind the redhead.

Once again, Mags relayed the instructions. This time he was the one to give the signal, and the designated Guard, who was almost as good at belly slinking as Mags, eased forward.

:Keep your mind open to me, too, Mags,: Dallen urged.

They all inched their way across the frigid floor, their breaths puffing out and hanging in the still air in tiny white clouds. Halfway down the length of the room, the silence was broken by a low moan.

“Hushabye baby,” said a strange, high voice. “They haven’t come for you yet. Here. Drink your drinkie, there’s a good baby.” The voice giggled. “Oh, and when they come for you, there will be such a surprise! They’ll be so pleased!”

Oh, dear gods ... that sounds like a trap. Mags was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to have heard that thought. But he had—and so had Dallen.

:Tell Caelen that Nikolas is getting something ready. Mags, we are going to need you; you are the key to this. I want you to ease close until you can see what is going on, get a good look, and then ease back.:

I’ve been told, Mags, came Caelen’s thought, hard on the heels of that. Do what they tell you.

:I need to scout,: Mags thought at the Guardsmen. :Ain’t getting closer than I have to.:

All four nodded, and he slithered past them, trying to breathe as slowly and silently as he could.

When he got to the end of the shelves, he moved over across the aisle so that he was sheltered by their bulk, then peered around the corner.

The Archivist’s desk was here, and a strange, thin, dark man was seated at it. Behind him, tied to another chair, bound hand and foot and with a gash on his forehead, was Bear, unconscious, but still alive. The man was dressed in odd clothing of a very dark gray; his head and hands were wrapped in what appeared to be bandages, and despite the fact that it was freezing in this room, his arms were bare. Laid out on the surface of the desk was a glittering array of knives.

The man seemed to sense Mags looking at him. He glanced sharply at the shelves, but he was looking high, not low, and Mags pulled back out of sight. He waited, listening for footsteps, but none came.

He slithered back to the others.

:Mags, Nikolas says that is a very dangerous man, some sort of highly trained killer. He can easily fight all five of you at once, and if he thinks you are going to win, he’ll kill Bear.:

:But—!:

:Don’t worry, we have a plan. All we need you five to do is to fight him, distract him, get him as far away from Bear as you can. And stay alive! He’ll concentrate on the one he thinks is weakest, that will be you. So your job is to be the lure, drawing him away from Bear. The Guards are to keep coming at him, but never let him close with them. Have you got that?:

Mags motioned to the others to put their heads together with him. Carefully, Mags thought those instructions into the heads of the Guardsmen as hard as he could, staring into their eyes. All four of them nodded slowly. The redhead pointed at Mags, and mouthed the word “bait.” Relieved, Mags nodded.

:Tell them the weapons might be poisoned:

Gulping, Mags did so. The big man looked angry, the redhead narrowed his eyes, the third shrugged, and the fourth smiled grimly.

Mags looked at the fourth curiously. The man stared back at him, hard. Slowly, Mags sensed a thin mental voice. It won’t be the first time we’ve handled cowards of that sort, boy. You just see to it that you don’t get scratched.

Mags nodded.

:All right. We are getting something in place. Stand up carefully and wait for my signal.:

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