The beasts approached her mechanically, looking neither to the right nor the left. She realized they were not animals at all, but magical constructions of stone called golems. They walked directly toward her with outstretched arms, stone eyes unblinking. As the first closed in, Selana mustered her courage and strength and planted her right foot on its stomach and pushed with all her might. The golem did not budge, but seized Selana and pinned her arms firmly. The other construct grasped the chains in its fists and pulled them apart as easily as Selana might have broken a thread.
The automaton holding Selana slung her over its shoulder, face down, with one arm wrapped firmly around her legs.
"What are you doing?" she cried. "Where are you taking me? Let me go!" She kicked and pounded its back, but her blows had no effect other than bruising herself. The minotaur carried her down the tunnel to a roughly circular chamber. Selana watched in disbelief as the beings turned and strode straight toward a blank section of wall. Just when she thought they would collide with the rock, they passed right through it and she found herself in another tunnel.
As they marched down the passage, Selana noticed a faint illumination that grew slowly until she and her escorts reached the entrance to another chamber. This one was a far cry from Blu's squalid, unfinished cavern. The walls of the egg-shaped chamber were polished rosy granite. Spiraling pillars, apparently natural features of the cavern, reached from floor to ceiling around the perimeter; a torch flickered in a sconce on each. The ceiling was highest in the center and sloped down at all ends of the "egg." At the farthest point of the room an elaborate pedestal table had been chiseled from the mountain granite.
The golem carried her to the center of the chamber and set her on her feet.
"Hello, my magical little mouse."
The dreaded deep baritone was oily with conceit. Selana closed her eyes in defeat for a moment before she followed the voice to the right.
The mage stepped out from behind a pillar. He wore black robes now instead of red, and the ram's-skull cap was missing from his head. A black silk patch covered his hideously scarred eye socket.
"Welcome to my—hmm," he paused, searching for the right word.
"Lair?" she spat, struggling to control the quiver in her voice. "I see you've decided to stop mocking the red robes. At last you're wearing a color more suited to your vile nature."
His laughter was throaty and staccato as he walked up to her slowly. The heels of his boots clicked against the cold, smooth stone floor and echoed in the rigid chamber. "I would think a woman in your tenuous position might speak a little more deferentially," he said smoothly. His thumbless hand reached out to touch her tattered clothing; his fingers lingered on the pulse that throbbed in the hollow of her pale neck. Aghast, the sea elf princess pulled away. Balcombe only smiled.
"You might almost be presentable, with some soap and water and a decent gown," he said, eyeing her slight form in the torn clothing. "Actually, the rags are almost alluring, in a primitive sort of way."
Selana shrank back but could not evade his sight or his probing hands.
"You have not thanked me for healing your wound," the mage said, his fingertips trying to trace the outline of the new pink scar on the inside of her left upper arm. She wrenched away, but the motion was clumsy and painful because of the weight of the short lengths of chain still dangling from her wrists. Balcombe only laughed again, which made Selana shake with silent fury.
He paced before her, his shaved head bent in thought, his hands tucked into the bell-shaped sleeves of his black robe. "Of great curiosity to me is the fact that I still do not know the identity or the fate of your friend and fellow mouse, the little kender." He watched her closely. "Or your name . . . Princess." He was greatly satisfied to see her jump.
His thick red lips pulled back into a smile. "An educated guess on my part, one I'm gratified to see is true. The spell I cast to analyze your bracelet told me much about it and, by inference, about you. Most interesting was its elven origin, though at that time I could not identify the kingdom. That, of course, became more clear as soon as I saw you without your scarf and cloak."
Balcombe stood just out of her reach and pushed back the sleeve of his right hand, revealing the copper bracelet. He tilted it toward the low flames. "Lovely, the way the amber gems catch the firelight, isn't it? It is only a bauble to me, really, but I shall enjoy owning such a beautiful piece of work—the gray-haired dwarf's, I presume? It's unfortunate that such a skilled artisan won't be crafting any more." Balcombe's sleek pate shook slowly in mock mourning.
With the fury of the conquered, Selana tried to grab the bracelet, but her reach fell far short. Gazing close up, for the very first time, at the bracelet created for Semunel, frustration thickened in Selana's throat. Balcombe's outline wavered in her sight as she struggled futilely to keep from crying.
You were right, Sem, she said to herself. I was not made for this. I am not strong enough. In that instance, at least, you could predict the future. . . .
"Come now, Princess," Balcombe's unwelcome baritone cut into her thoughts. "Recent hardships have not caused you to grow soft and weepy, have they? I so admired your spirit. For instance, the spells you used in our fight beneath Castle Tantallon, though limited in power, were ingeniously chosen. I have not met someone so unexpectedly challenging in a very long time."
He let out a huge sigh and shook his head. "Again, 'tis a pity you will
