"What's wrong?" Adrian asked.

"I am able to call the spell, but not to use it upon him," Faegan answered.

The women were stunned. "But how can that be?" Abbey asked. "His powers don't begin to rival yours!"

Thinking to himself, Faegan rubbed his face with his hands.

"The two of you must have inadvertently made him immune to the particular set of calculations required to deeply enter his mind," he answered at last.

"How could that be?" Adrian asked.

"Tell me more about this serum that you made," he said to Abbey.

"Did you use laurel seed?"

Abbey nodded.

"And mandrake?"

"Of course. You're an expert herbmaster. You know the formula as well as I. I had to recall it from memory, but I think I got it right. It calls for both of those herbs, plus several more."

"It's not your fault-neither of you," Faegan said. He shook his head.

"What you didn't know is that when laurel and mandrake are mixed for this purpose, they must never be enhanced with an additional spell of the mind. To do so inures the subject against further such intrusions for all time. Adrian couldn't have known, because she has little or no knowledge of herbmastery. And Abbey, you didn't know because you are unfamiliar with spells that your partial blood signature lacks the power to employ. Only a full wizard or sorceress who was also an herbmaster would know this. You both have much left to learn, but I commend you for trying."

"I'm sorry," Abbey said.

"Don't be," Faegan answered. "You did what you thought best." He trained his gaze back upon the Valrenkian.

"You knew, didn't you?" he asked.

Uther grinned. "Of course, you old fool! I knew what was going on the moment I saw the beaker of green fluid in your herbmistress' hands. They obviously needed information, and any herbalist worth his salt knows that the formula for the serum contains both mandrake and laurel. You know as well as I that it's the laurel that gives the solution its distinctive color. And why else would a Sister of the Redoubt be there, too, unless it was to help augment the serum with a spell? I was fully aware of how this combination would inure me. Your servants have given me a gift that I could never have attained on my own. How ironic! I put on quite a show at the time, but I wanted this, wizard-and badly. Your women willingly gave it to me."

Abbey's face grew hard. Her hands were balled up into fists, her knuckles white. Then she thought for a moment, and looked to Faegan.

"Just because you can't enter his mind now, that doesn't mean that at the time of their application our efforts weren't successful, right?" she mused. "In fact, how could they not have been? For all we know, the map might well be genuine."

Faegan nodded. "Or a complete fabrication," he warned.

Traax stepped forward. "There's one way to find out!" he said harshly. "Leave me alone with this animal! I'll get the truth out of him!"

Swiveling around in his chair, Faegan looked at Traax. He knew that the warrior meant well, but he obviously hadn't thought his plan through.

"Don't you see?" the wizard asked softly. "That won't do any good."

"And just why not?" Traax demanded. He glared hatefully up through the stone bars at Uther. "Just give me the chance. We Minions have many ways of being persuasive, I assure you."

"Oh, I'm quite sure that you do," Faegan answered. "And I can think of nothing just now that would give me greater pleasure. But tell me, no matter how he answers, how will you know-really know-it's the truth?"

Traax scowled. "I see your point." He sighed. "But surely there must be something we can do."

"There is," Abbey said.

Faegan smiled, for he already knew the answer. "Tell us."

"We fly around to the entrance, and we force Uther to lead us through," she answered. She looked over at Sister Adrian. "That was the other reason I brought him-in case all else failed."

"Well done," Faegan said. He looked at Traax again.

"I think we have no choice but to accept those volunteers of yours," he said. "They will, of course, have to come from the other side of the lattice. Limit their number to two. Uther is unable to use the craft, so only physical restraint is needed. I will keep the map with me. Tell your volunteers to make a mark on the wall at every turn." Then he grinned at the Valrenkian.

"What say you, Uther?" he asked sarcastically. "Are you game for a little walk?"

Seething, the Valrenkian snarled something under his breath. The wizard only smiled.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said.

He turned back to Abbey and Adrian. "Ask for two Minion volunteers from your side of the lattice," he ordered. "Once you have sent them in with Uther, come to the top of the bluffs near the maze opening on our side. We will meet you there, to wait and watch. Then it will be out of our hands."

As Abbey's group started to soar away, the wizard lowered his chair to the ground. Duvessa, Traax, and Ox walked over. Duvessa placed one hand upon the old wizard's shoulder.

"Is this really going to work?" she asked.

Faegan sighed. "It has to," he answered. "Because if it doesn't we're going to be here for a very long time."

As a group, the warriors and the wizard headed for the dark, square-cut portal in the bluffs.

"Are you quite sure you wish…to go alone?" Alrik asked. Trying to steady himself, he placed a meaty hand against the wall. Screwing up his face, he blinked. It was all he could do to remain standing. He let go a wet belch, then wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. Despite the fact that he had just been rude in the presence of the First Wizard, he laughed a little-something he would have never done had he been sober.

Wigg couldn't be angry with him. The impromptu feast that had been arranged in celebration of Tristan and Celeste's marriage had gone on for hours, and every Minion and Gallipolai stationed in and around the Recluse had gladly attended. Alrik had given a drunken toast that seemed to go on forever.

Tristan, Celeste, Wigg, and Jessamay had sat at the table of honor, and gifts had been presented to the bride and groom. For a time, at least, the dancing, drinking, and feasting had provided a welcome respite from their troubles. It was now nearly midnight, and everyone was asleep save for Wigg, Alrik, and a complement of patrolling-and sober-warriors.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Wigg answered. "I see you brought what I asked for."

Alrik nodded. After fumbling about, he clumsily produced the empty canteen. He put its strap around Wigg's neck, then smiled stupidly again. Another fragrant belch followed. Wigg winced.

"I can't understand why you want to go back down there alone, Wirst Fizard," he said numbly. "And with an empty canteen, of all things."

Wigg gave him a wink. "Wirst Fizard's business," he said. "I should be back before the Jin'Sai and his new bride awaken. If anyone asks, tell them the truth-that I went for a walk. When I return, the three of us will need an escort back to Master Faegan's portal. We must arrive there by high noon, when it is due to open."

Alrik tried to click his heels, but almost fell down. Clutching at Wigg's robe, he did his best to straighten up. His breath was awful. Wigg averted his face.

"I live to serve," Alrik said.

Turning awkwardly, the warrior walked back down the hall. The wizard smiled as he heard Alrik begin to belt out yet another Minion drinking song. The singing soon faded away.

Wigg pointed one hand toward the dark passageway and brought the radiance stones to light. Then he reached under his robe to make sure that the rolled-up parchment was still there.

He was tired, and the walk down and back would be a long one. He didn't relish going but knew it had to be done. The idea had come to him during the celebration. He wanted to take something of this place back to Eutracia with him, something that he thought would be of help-especially if things were about to become as serious as he feared. Taking a deep breath, he started down.