Keys to the Demon Prison (Fablehaven #5)(37)

A rumble from behind startled him. This was new! From the back wall of his cell came the low, heavy grating of stone grinding against stone. A portion of the wall slid open, and a mellow white light shed soft luminance into the room. A young man stepped through the opening, holding the white light in his hand.


Seth picked up the brick of meat, the closest thing he had to a weapon. The intruder froze in the doorway, a hand held up defensively. "Please, don't assault me with that meat amalgam," the stranger said. "It would surely cause an infection."


Seth lowered the mystery meat. The young man wore ragged clothing. Improvised moccasins covered his dirty feet. The white light in his hand was clearly magical, some kind of glowing stone. The illumination gave his grime-streaked skin a pearly sheen. Tall and lean, he had silver-white hair down to his shoulders and a handsome, open face.


"Who are you?" Seth asked.


"A fellow prisoner," the young man answered. Seth estimated he was around eighteen. "May I come in?"


Seth considered the stranger. What kind of prison had secret passages that allowed inmates to visit each other? This guy had to be an enemy sent by the Sphinx to squeeze information out of him. Still, at the moment, Seth would be willing to talk with just about anyone. Anything to relieve the loneliness. "Sure, I guess."


Turning, the young man retrieved a small three-legged stool from the corridor. He brought it into the cell and sat down. "Welcome to Living Mirage."


"Am I really supposed to believe you're another prisoner?" Seth said.


"I don't blame you for doubting," the young man said. "I have a similar concern about you. I'm Bracken."


"Seth."


"They stashed you down deep. That means either you're dangerous and they're done with you for the foreseeable future, or else you're a spy."


Seth fidgeted with the brick of meat, turning it in his hands. "And how am I supposed to know you're not a spy? What sort of prison has secret passages between cells?"


"This dungeon is old," Bracken said. "It has been expanded and rebuilt so many times that nobody knows all the half-buried corridors and sealed-up chambers. Centuries of tunneling prisoners have added to the abandoned shafts and forgotten cavities. I helped excavate some of these passages personally, but most existed long before I came here. Nothing leads out, mind you. Not even close. But we've connected many of the deep rooms."


"Nobody has caught on?" Seth said incredulously.


"We're not fooling anybody," Bracken replied. "If we're really obvious about our activities, they seal up some of our excavations and administer punishments, but later we chip our way through again. Our tunneling is relatively harmless, and it keeps us occupied, so if we stay quiet about it, our captors mostly look the other way."


"You talk like you've been here a long time," Seth said. "How old are you? Like seventeen?"


Bracken gave a wry smile. "I'm a tad older than I look. You would weep for me if you knew how long I'd been here."


"So when are you going to start investigating my secrets?"


"Still don't trust me? At least you're not stupid."


"Don't give me too much credit. I'm here, aren't I?"


Bracken studied him shrewdly. "Yes, you are here. And you are clearly a shadow charmer, which makes you such an obvious spy that I wonder why the Sphinx would bother."


"How can you tell I'm a shadow charmer?"


"I can tell more than that," Bracken said, moving the stool closer to the cot. "Mind if I conduct a little test?"


"Depends on the test."


"Nothing painful," Bracken assured him. He tossed the glowing rock onto the cot. "Just take my hands." He held them out, palms up.


"This is weird," Seth said, keeping his hands in his lap.



"I just want to ask you a couple of questions. If I ask something you don't like, go ahead and punch me in the face."


Seth set his meat brick aside and took Bracken's hands. Bracken gazed into his eyes. "Tell me your name."


"Seth Sorenson."


"Tell me a lie."


"The food here is terrific." Bracken grinned. "Tell me something true."


"Centaurs are jerks."


The grin broadened. "Are you a friend of the Society of the Evening Star?"


"Nope. I'm the opposite. A Knight of the Dawn."


Bracken released his hands and scooted the stool back. "I believe you. In fact, I know some things about you. You have friends here."


"My parents?" Seth said hopefully.


"Your parents might be here, but not in a cell we can access."


"So what are you, a human lie detector?"


"I'm good at reading people. I wanted a close look at you. They've sent down stingbulbs before. Now I know you're not a stingbulb, or a changeling. More important, your friends might have been mistaken about your allegiances. Hard to believe a shadow charmer could be on our side. But now I'm convinced."