blurred and half-erased. Behind the man bulked an object that could only be described by the word 'altar,' and to either side were two immense candlesticks, each holding a white candle as thick as her wrist. These, however, were not lit; the only illumination came from the body of the Salamander.
Jason lay at the center of the web of chalked lines. She recognized the half-obscured diagram at once-by type if not the diagram itself. This was a Magickal circle, and Jason must have been attempting some procedure or other when, or before, he collapsed.
As she drew nearer, her skirts now held up to keep them from brushing against those chalked lines and perhaps causing some damage or releasing something better left bound, she revised her opinion. From the look of things, he had finished whatever he had been doing, and had been engaged in erasing the diagram when he was overcome and collapsed.
One thing, at least, was certain. Whatever else was going on, he was not drunk. Only a fool engaged in Magickal work when drugged or drunk, and of all things, Jason Cameron was not a fool.
He whimpered hoarsely, and stirred, though not enough to dislodge the hood, and she was reminded that some deformity lurked beneath that concealing fabric. She bent down and reached for his shoulder, touching it tentatively.
'Jason?' she said.
The body shook convulsively beneath the crimson velvet, and she pulled her hand away quickly, unable to stop herself. Suddenly she was terrified at what she might see, and the hand that had touched his shoulder tingled oddly.
Cameron heaved himself up onto his elbows.
'Get out!' Cameron snarled harshly, without looking up or revealing his face. 'You foolish woman, what do you think you are doing? Get out of here! Leave me! Go back to your books where you belong!'
Every word was punctuated with a gasp, and the mere effort of speaking cost him dearly. He sagged back down onto the cold stone of the floor with a groan.
She was briefly tempted to do as he had ordered, but the agitated presence of the Salamander told her that no matter how much Cameron cursed her, he could not be left to himself. And presumably the Salamander could not help him itself. 'No,' she said simply, steeling herself for the inevitable. 'Not while you need my help.'
She seized both his shoulders in her hands, but before she could help him up, he writhed away from her, striking her hands away in the same moment. 'Infernal woman!' he snarled. 'Damn meddling Nosy Parker! I should have known! You won't leave until you have seen my face!'
Though still half collapsed on the floor, he reached up and jerked the hood of his cloak away from his head, twisting his head to stare up at her in defiance.
She leapt back with an involuntary gasp, the knuckles of one hand crammed into her mouth, the other hand at her breast-for what snarled up at her was not the disfigured visage of a man, but the mask of an enraged beast!
She could not even put a name to what beast it was; she had never seen anything to match it in all her life. The head was covered with coarse, gray fur; the snarling, toothy muzzle was certainly that of an animal's, but horribly, the eyes were all too human. Upstanding, pointed ears crowned the skull. The lips writhed, as if speaking was an incredible effort.
'Now are you satisfied?' the harsh voice rasped, a note of exhaustion and great pain underlining every word. 'Now will you go and leave me to fend for myself in peace?'
At the very moment when she wanted most to turn and flee, it was the voice that steadied her, even when she saw that the hands were not hands at all, but clawed paws. Whatever else this creature was, there was no denying that it was Jason Cameron, and the man had not changed because she had finally seen his real face.
I must remember what I know about him; I must be like Tam Lin's lover, Fair Janet, and hold to what I know is within the monster, no matter how fearful it looks.
'Of course not,' she replied, managing to keep her voice from quavering and her hand from shaking. 'Your Salamander would not have summoned me if you did not need help. Where the devil is du Mond, anyway?' She couldn't help herself; her voice reflected her outrage that the man wasn't here doing his duty. 'Why wasn't he where he belongs, helping you? I thought he was your Apprentice as well as your secretary!' She reached once again for his arm, and this time he suffered her to take it. As she helped him to his feet again, he pulled the hood back over his head, hiding his face from her so that she no longer had to look at it.
'I sent him away,' Cameron replied, slowly, pausing to catch his breath. 'He must have guessed I was going to try a Magickal Work, and kept trying to press his services on me. I-fear I no longer trust him. Precisely because he kept trying to persuade me, I was convinced it would be a bad idea to allow him to participate.' He grunted with pain and effort as Rose helped him to a kneeling position, and waved at her to stop for a moment as he bent over, panting.
When he was ready again, she helped him to his feet, and with a vague memory of seeing sketches of firemen doing so, draped his arm over her shoulders so that he could lean on her. He was far heavier than she had
