The Alchemist of Souls (Night's Masque, #1)(115)

"O brothers too, how may we do,

For to preserve this day

This poor youngling for whom we do sing

Bye, bye, lully, lullay."

Mal stepped closer, wondering why Sandy had chosen that particular song. The change of words, from "sisters" to "brothers", was no slip of the tongue, of that he was certain. He laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Sandy? It's a bit soon for Christmas carols, eh?"

Sandy turned to look at him, and his eyes widened. He cocked his head to one side, studying Mal's face.

"Who are you?" he asked. The chains clinked as he lifted his hands to grasp Mal's chin.

"I'm your brother," Mal replied.

"Who are you? What is your name?"

"Mal. Maliverny Catlyn. Your brother."

Sandy relaxed his grip, then slapped Mal so hard his teeth rattled.

"Wrong answer!"

"Sandy! What is wrong with you?"

"Who are you? What did you find out?" He seized Mal by the shoulders. "Tell me! You can't hide in there forever, you know."

Mal placed his hands either side of his brother's head. "Alexander, listen to me. We have to get out of here–"

Sandy let out an ear-splitting shriek and clapped his hands to his head.

"Oh God, make them stop! Please, Mal, make them stop…"

Mal took his brother in his arms, and Sandy immediately went limp, almost falling to the floor before Mal could catch him. Mal carried him over to the curtained bed and laid him down. Sandy curled into a ball, making a thin keening sound. Mal had never seen him this bad before, not since–

"Maggots," Sandy muttered. "They eat you from the inside, gnawing, gnawing…"

God's teeth, what had they been doing to him? Though it was too dark to see much, Mal gently probed his brother's head and limbs for bruises, cuts or any other signs of torture. Nothing. What, then, had they done to bring him to such a state of torment? Who were their captors, and how in the name of all that was holy had he been brought here? Drugged and abducted from the Tower? Was Kiiren somehow behind all this?

He stumbled over to the door. It was locked, of course. He pounded on it, demanding that their captor show himself. There was no response. He went back to the bed and lay down beside Sandy, stroking his brother's hair. Best to conserve his strength and wait until morning. Perhaps daylight would show him a way out of here.

Ambassador Kiiren burst into the room dressed only in his underlinens, his short hair dishevelled.

"Where is Catlyn-tuur?"

Coby shrugged helplessly and gestured to the window. "I… I thought I saw him disappear into a tunnel of light."

It sounded so ridiculous, and yet the skrayling did not seem surprised. Instead he picked up the lamp and swirled its contents so that it glowed a little more brightly, then set it back on the chest. Coby wrapped her arms about her knees, unsure of how one ought to behave in the presence of a foreign ambassador in his night attire.

"Did he wear his earring, last night?" Kiiren asked.

Coby stared at him. "His earring? You mean the black pearl?"

"Yes. Please, try to remember. It is important."

She cast her mind back over the evening's events.

"I was lying on the bed, here, and he was playing his lute," she said. "I remember looking up at him and noticing that his earlobe was bloody. I thought perhaps he'd hurt himself, during the…"

Kiiren looked grave. "Please, tell me everything," he said, sitting down on the end of the bed. "Go back to beginning, from moment you arrived here."

She recounted all she could remember of the evening's events, wondering as she did so how the ambassador had known Mal was gone.

"Stop," he said when she started describing the tunnel. "You say there was another Catlyn-tuur?"

"Yes, his brother Sandy." She paused, knowing she was going against Mal's wishes. But the ambassador needed to know what was going on. "His twin."

Kiiren stared at her for a moment, his face sickly pale in the lamplight, then he buried his face in his hands, murmuring something in his own tongue.

"Your Excellency? Are you unwell? Shall I fetch your servants?"

He looked up. "No. No, that is not necessary." He got to his feet and went over to the window.

"Where is he?" Coby asked.

"West of here, beyond city. Not very far, but not near."

"How can you be sure?"

"When you close your eyes, how can you be sure where your hand is?"

She shrugged. "I just know. I feel it."

"Just so." He smiled, and sat down again.

"The thing I saw: the tunnel. It was real, wasn't it?"

"Yes, of course."

"But how…?"

"It is gift of our people, to walk from our dreams into those of others. When bond is strong or need very great, mind can bridge worlds. Dreams can pass into waking world, and things of waking world into dream."

"Magic," Coby whispered.

"If you wish to call it so." He cocked his head on one side. "You are afraid now?"

"No! Well, perhaps a little."

He smiled. "Without fear we are fools, yes?"