Amelie had told him, I found out on the way to Michael's new car. I'd needed to, apparently; I hadn't trusted any vampire but Sam with the information and access to Myrnin, but Michael had an investment in my wellbeing, and Sam was going to be out of action for a couple of days at least. "But he's okay?" I asked.
Michael opened the door to the parking garage for me, an automatic gesture that he'd probably learned from his grandfather, once upon a time. He had some of Sam's mannerisms, and they had the same walk. Funny how I was just starting to notice that.
"Yeah," Michael said. "He nearly died, though. People -- vampires -- are pretty wired right now. They want the one who staked him, and they don't really care how it happens. I made Justin promise to keep his ass inside, and not to go out alone."
"You really think he'll keep his word?"
Michael shrugged and opened the door of a standard-issue dark vampire-tinted sedan, exactly the same as the one Sam had driven. A Ford, as it happened. Nice to know the vamps were buying American. "I tried," he said. "Justin doesn't listen to much anything I have to say anymore."
I got into the car and buckled in. As Michael climbed in the driver's side, I said, "It's not your fault. He's just not dealing with it very well. I don't know what we can do about that."
"Nothing," Michael said, and started the car. "We can't do anything about it at all."
It was a short drive, of course, and as far as I could tell from the dimly seen streets outside Michael took the same route Sam had to the alley, and Myrnin's cave. Michael parked the car at the curb. When I got out, though, I realized something, and bent to look into the dim interior of the car, and ducked back inside.
"Crap," I said. "You can't come inside, can you? You can't go out in the sun!"
Michael shook his head. "I'm supposed to wait out here for you until the sun goes down, then I'll come in. Amelie said she'd make sure you were safe until then."
"But -- " I bit my lip. It wasn't Michael's fault. There were about three hours of sun left, so I was just going to have to watch my own back for a while. "Okay. See you after dark."
I closed the car door. When I straightened up I saw that Gramma Katherine Day was on the porch of her big Founder's house, rocking and sipping what looked like iced tea. I waved. Gramma Day nodded.
"You bein' careful?" she called.
"Yes ma'am!"
"I told the Queen, I don't like her putting you down there with that thing. I told her," Gramma Day said, with a fierce stab of her finger for emphasis. "You come on up here and have some iced tea with me, girl. That thing down there, he'll wait. He don't know where he is half the time, anyway."
I smiled and shook my head. "I can't, ma'am, I'm supposed to be there on time. Thank you, though." I turned toward the alley, then had a thought. "Oh -- who's the Queen?"
Gramma made an impatient fly-waving gesture. "Her, of course. The White Queen. You're just like Alice, you know. Down the rabbit hole with the Mad Hatter."
I didn't dare think about that too much, because the phrase off with her head! loomed way too close. I gave Gramma Day another polite smile and wave, hitched my backpack higher on my shoulder, and went to Night School.
Amelie had made sure I was safe, all right. She'd done it by locking Myrnin up.
I dropped my backpack at the bottom of the stairs -- I always put it where it was easy to grab in mid-run -- and spotted a new addition to the lab: a cage. And Myrnin was inside of it.
"Oh my God -- " I took a few steps toward him, navigating around the usual haphazard stacks of books, and bit my lip. It was, as far as I could tell, the same cage that the vampires had used to lock up Justin in Founder's Square - heavy black bars, and the whole thing was on wheels. Vampire-proof, hopefully. Whoever had locked Myrnin in had been nice enough to give him a whole pile of books, and a comfy (if threadbare) tangle of blankets and faded pillows. He was lounging in the corner on the cushions, with a pair of old-fashioned Benjamin Franklin-style glasses perched on the end of his hooked nose. He was reading.
"You're late," he said, as he turned a page. My mouth opened and closed, but I couldn't think of a thing to say. "Oh, don't fret about the cage. It's for your precaution, of course. Since Samuel isn't here to watch over you." He turned another page, but his eyes weren't moving to follow text. He was pretending to read, and somehow, that was worse than heartbreaking. "Amelie's idea. I can't say that I really approve."
I was finally was able to say, "I'm sorry."
Myrnin shrugged and closed the book, which he dropped with a bang on the pile next to him. "I've been in cages before this," he said. "And no doubt I will be let out once your appointed guardian is here to chaperone. In the meantime, let's continue with our instruction. Pull a chair close. You'll excuse me if I don't get up, but I'm a bit taller than -- " He reached up and rapped the bars overhead. "Amelie tells me you have enrolled in advanced placement classes."
I gratefully took that as an opportunity not to think about how disturbing this was, seeing him locked up like an animal in a cage, because of me. I read off my class schedule, and answered his questions, which were sharply worded and a strange mix of expert knowledge and complete ignorance. He understood philosophy and biochem; he didn't know anything at all about Quantum Mechanics, until I explained the basics, and then he nodded.
"Myth and Legend?" he echoed, baffled, when I read off the class title. "Why would Amelie feel it necessary ... ah, no matter. I'm sure she has reason. Your essay?" He held out his hand. I dug the stapled computer printout from my bag and handed it over. Six pages, single spaced. The best I could do on the history of a subject I was only just now starting to understand. "I'll read it later. And the books I gave you?"
I went to my backpack and pulled them out, then came back to my chair. "I read through Aureus and The Golden Chain of Homer."
"Did you understand them?"
"Not -- really."
"That's because Alchemy is a very secretive field of study. Rather like being a Mason -- are there still Masons?" When I nodded, Myrnin looked oddly relieved. "Well, that's good. The consequences would be quite terrible, you know, if there weren't. --As to alchemy, I can teach you how to translate the codes that were spoken and written, but I'm more concerned that you learn the mechanics than the philosophy. You do understand the methods outlined in the texts for constructing a calcining furnace, yes?"
"I think so. But why can't we just order what we need? Or buy it?"
Myrnin flicked the silver ring on his right hand into the bars of his cell, setting up a metallic ringing. "None of that. Modern children are fools, slaves to the work of others, dependent for everything. Not you. You will learn how to build your tools as well as use them."
"You want me to be an engineer?"
"Is it not a useful thing for one who studies physics to understand such practical applications?"
I stared at him doubtfully. "You're not going to make me get an anvil and make my own screwdrivers or anything, are you?"
Myrnin smiled slowly. "What a good idea! I'll consider it. Now. I have an experiment I'd like to try. Are you ready?"
Probably not. "Yes sir."
"Move that bookcase -- " He pointed to a leaning monstrosity of shelves that looked ready to collapse. It was groaning with volumes, of course. "Push it out of the way."
I wasn't at all sure the thing would hold together to be pushed, but I did as he said. It was better built than it looked, and to my surprise, when I'd pushed it aside, I found a small arched doorway. It was secured with a big heart-shaped iron lock.
"Open it," he said, and picked up the book he'd dropped upon my entrance, leafing randomly through the pages.
"Where's the key?"
"No idea." He flipped faster, frowning at the words. "Look around."
I looked around the lab in complete frustration. "In here?" Where was I supposed to start? It was all piles and stacks and half-open drawers, nothing in any order at all that I'd been able to determine so far. "Can you give me a hint, at least?"
"If I remembered, I would." Myrnin's voice was dry, but just a little sad too. I shot him a glance out of the corner of my eye. He folded the book closed again and stared out of the cage -- not at me, not at anything, really. There was a careful blankness in his face. "Anastasia?"
"Yeah?" I pulled open the first drawer near the door. It was full of bottles of what looked like dust, none of them labeled. A spider scuttled frantically out of sight into the darker recesses, and I made a face and slammed it shut.
"Can you tell me why I'm in this cage?" He sounded odd now, strangely calm with something underneath. I pulled in a deep breath and kept looking in the drawers. I didn't look directly at him. "I don't like cages. Bad things have happened to me in cages."
"Amelie says you have to stay in there for a while," I said. "Remember? It's to help us."
"I don't remember." His voice was warm and soft and regretful. "I'd like to get out of here. Could you open it, please?"
"No," I said. "I don't have the -- "
--keys, except that I did. There was a ring of them sitting right there in front of me, half-hidden by a leaning tower of loose yellowing pages. Three keys. One was a great big iron skeleton key, and I was instantly almost sure that it fit the big heart-shaped lock on the door behind the bookcase. The other one was newer, still big and clunky, and it had to be the key to Myrnin's cage.
The third was a tiny, delicate silver key, like the kind that opened diaries and suitcases.
I reached out for the keyring and pulled it toward me, trying to do it silently. He heard, of course. He got up from the corner of the cage and came to the front, where he held on to the bars. "Ah, excellent," he said. "Ana, please open the door. I can't show you what you need to do if I'm locked in this cage."
God, I couldn't look at him, I just couldn't. "I'm not supposed to do that," I said, and sorted out the big iron skeleton key. It felt cold and rough to my fingers, and old. Really old. "You wanted me to open this door, right?"
"Ana. Look at me." He sounded so sad. I heard the soft ringing chime of his ring on the bars when he gripped them again. "Ana, please."
I turned away from him and put the key into the heart-shaped lock.
"Ana, don't open that!"
"You told me to!"
"Don't!" Myrnin rattled the bars of his cage, and even though they were solid iron I heard them rattle. "If you open that door, you'll die! Now get me out of here! Now!"
I checked my watch. Not enough time, not nearly enough; it was still at least an hour to sunset, maybe more. Michael was still stuck in the car. "I can't," I said. "I'm sorry."
The sound Myrnin made then was enough to make me glad that I was across the room. I'd never heard a lion roar, not in person, but somehow I imagined that it would sound like that, all wild animal rage. It shredded my confidence. I closed my eyes and tried not to listen, but he was talking, I couldn't understand what he was saying now but it was a constant, vicious stream in a language I didn't know. The tone, though -- you couldn't not get the evil undercurrents.
He'd kill me if he got hold of me now. Thank God, the cage was strong enough to ...
He snarled something low and guttural, and I heard something metal snap with a high, vibrating sound.
The cage wasn't strong enough.
Myrnin was bending the bars away from the lock.
I spun, key still in my hand, and saw him rip at a weak point in the cage like it was wet paper. How could he do that? How could he be that strong? Wasn't he hurting himself?
He was. I could see blood on his hands.
It came to me with a jolt that if he got out of that cage, he could do the same thing to me.
I needed to get out.
I moved around the lab table, squeezed past two towering stacks of volumes, and tripped over a broken three-legged stool. I hit the floor painfully, on top of a pile of assorted junk -- pieces of old leather, some bricks, a couple of withered old plants I guessed Myrnin was saving for botanical salvage. Man, that hurt. I rolled over on my side, gasping, and climbed to my feet.
I heard a long slow, sound of metal and I stopped for a fatal second to look over my shoulder.
The cage door was open, and Myrnin was out. He was still wearing his little Ben Franklin glasses, but what was in his eyes looked like something that had crawled straight out of hell.
"Oh crap," I whispered, and looked desperately toward the stairs.
Too far. Way too far, too many obstacles between me and safety, and he could move like a snake. He'd get there first.
I was closer to the door with the lock on it than the stairs, and the key was still clutched tight in my hand. I'd have to abandon my book bag, no way to get to it now.
I didn't have time to think about it. The cut Jason had put on my wrist was still fresh, Myrnin could still smell it, and it was ringing the dinner bell loud and clear.
I kicked stacks of books out of the way, jumped over the pile of junk, and raced for the locked door with the key outstretched. My hands were shaking, and it took two tries to get the oversized key into the hole, and when I started to turn it there was a terrible moment of utter panic because it wouldn't turn ...
And then it did, a smooth metallic slide of levers and pins, and the door swung open.
On the other side was my own living room, and Justin was sitting on the couch with his back to me, playing a video game.
I paused, utterly off balance. That couldn't be real, could it? I couldn't be seeing him, right there, but I could hear all of the computerized grunts and punches and wet bloody sounds from whatever fight game he had on. I could smell the house. Chili. He'd made chili. He still hadn't taken some of his boxes back upstairs. They were piled in the corner.
"Justin-- " I whispered, and reached out, through the doorway. I could feel something there, like a slight pressure, and the hair on my arm shivered and prickled.
Justin put the game on pause, and slowly stood up. "Ana?" He was looking in the wrong place, he was looking up, at the staircase.
But he'd heard me. And that meant I could just step right through and I'd be safe.
I never got the chance.
Myrnin's hand landed on my shoulder, dragged me back, and as Justin started to turn toward us, Myrnin slammed the door and turned the key in the lock.