(Author's Note: dedicated to @annkreeves and her ONC story, Blend, a paranormal urban murder mystery!)
Here was his opportunity.
Ben still had no idea what was going on, but he knew one thing. He wasn't going to meet his captors while tied to the bed, not if he could help it. Not for the first time, he thanked the lucky stars which had persuaded him to undertake the rigorous training required for a stuntman.
In a matter of minutes Ben was free and prowling around the space. His first instinct was to escape, but his brain was quick to overrule that idea. Where would he go? If this place was in truth a different world, as Ciara claimed, then he needed to know a lot more before taking any action. Words like 'frying pan' and 'fire' crossed his mind.
There wasn't much to explore. The only pieces of furniture were the bed he had been lying on, a single chair and a small rack with a cloak draped over it. The room itself was small and round, apparently hollowed out directly from the white stone. There were no windows, and the only light came from the candles that he had seen earlier. The single door was closed, with a hefty latch—presently slid open—which was the first encouraging thing Ben had seen since he woke. If the door could be locked from the inside, it wasn't a prison cell. No, it seemed more likely that he was in somebody's sleeping chamber, bare as it was.
He opened the door a fraction and peered out into the empty corridor beyond. White walls stretched in each direction, broken only by closed wooden doors set at regular intervals. The sound of footsteps approaching had him darting back inside. He left the door ajar and seated himself in the chair, his back to the wall. His heart began to thump.
"Wait!" The voice was Ciara's. "The door should not be open. I left it closed."
"Closed? Why did thou not bolt it from this side?" scolded a familiar voice.
"He was tied! Thou said he was safe!" Ciara protested.
"We can lay the blame later. Let us see whether he has escaped or not, first," ordered a third voice, flinging open the door.
Ben saw three hooded figures freeze in the doorway. He recognised Ciara immediately, and he thought the man with the pointed brown beard was Uldon. The third was a stranger, an older man whose beard was white and trimmed close to his chin. It was hard to make out any other features given the cloaks and hoods.
"Why have you brought me here?" Ben demanded, seizing the initiative. He folded his arms and glared. "And how can I get back home?"
Uldon spread his hands in a placating gesture. "Thou were witless. Violent. I had to calm thee before thou hurt someone, and we brought thee here to recover."
Ben shook his head impatiently. "I don't mean here, to this room! I meant why did you bring me to this place, this world, Rhillion is it called?"
Uldon feigned surprise. "We did not bring thee here. Thou were already coming through the Mirror Gate. We merely helped thee through to this side." His eyes flickered for a second, as if this was not the whole truth. "And as for returning.... I'm afraid that's not possible. The Mirror Gate is broken, cracked through from side to side."
"But it can be repaired, right?"
Uldon's gaze slid across to his companion. "That will be up to the Rider. The task would require a Fifth Level Mirror Mage, someone far more skilled than I. And that would cost a lot of coins... I don't know if..." His voice trailed away.
Ciara looked on the verge of speech but then thought better of it and stayed silent.
"Be that as it may, the fact of the matter is that thou are here, and will be for some time," announced the white-haired man, in pragmatic tones. "The question now, is whether thou can be of use to the Rider."
Is it though? Really? thought Ben, sourly. "And who might you be?"
"I am Tybor Holt, the Rider's steward," he answered. "I run the household on his behalf, and whether thou stay in the Keep or not will be up to me. What is thy name?"
To his dismay, Ben had to stop and think before he answered. Some parts of his memory were worryingly hazy. He could remember his life in London, but what he had been doing just before he arrived here was a mystery. Perhaps he had hit his head on the way through this Mirror Gate. Or perhaps the drug Uldon had given him had yet to wear off completely.
"I'm Ben. Ben Lucas."
"And what is thy station?"
"'My station'?" Ben didn't think Holt was talking about the nearest Underground.
"Thy position in the guild." The other man sounded impatient but Ben was confused. The only guild he knew of was the Actors' Guild.
"Well, I'm a member if that's what you mean. Though I only joined fairly recently."
Holt's face fell, as if he had been expecting more. "An apprentice, then, after all that trouble!" he muttered, crossly. He turned to Ciara with a shrug. "It seems thou will have a companion in thy lessons."
By this time Ben realized they were talking at cross purposes. However, it seemed wise to go along. If he wanted to discover how to return to his own world, whether it was this week or next month, he need to learn as much about this one as possible. It didn't sound like he was going to get any help to return from anyone here.
"Master Uldon, run this fellow through the basics and see what he knows. If you tell me he has sufficient skills, I will speak to the Rider about taking him on as a second Apprentice Mage. If not, we can always do with another stable hand." At this point, the steward fixed Ben with a steely smile. Evidently, working as a stable hand was not a popular job here, though it sounded fine to Ben. "I'll leave him in your capable hands."
The steward left with a flourish of his cloak.