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than one?”
    The Beast relaxed to his haunches. “One what?”
    “One life, Beast of Briarburn.”
    More than one life? Had the old woman gone mad? The Beast knew full well that a being lived and died only once. You were only dealt one hand. The Beast exploded to full height and rumbled through clenched teeth. “I grow tired of riddle speak and parlor tricks.”
    “Ah, patience, my boy, patience. We have come to a forgotten place. How deep is for you alone to decide. I have merely forced a stubborn door.” Urda’s jovial tone became grim. “From here, you journey alone. Beware, you may not like all you discover. Some memories are best left behind.” The gypsy’s words trailed off. The Beast fancied not the prospect of searching for answers in a dungeon. Let alone an illusion forged by his fragmented mind.
    A weak sob echoed. The Beast leaned toward the muffled sound, reluctant to charge ahead. In the wild, many a wily predator used calls and cries to bait their prey. The cry echoed again. Familiar , he thought. His eyes narrowed against the near pitch, studying the walls. And there it was: The faint outline of an egress. The cry had to have come from within.
    The Beast took a step and the moonlight poured into the sand, collecting in a buckler sized puddle. The liquid filled the passage’s mouth, swirling like a whirlpool. He clenched his massive fists, hoping the gesture would prove unnecessary. He stalked the puddle, drawing long even breaths of the stale air. The swirling light rose like a storm funnel, undulating like a cobra. It darted forward, probing the intruder.
    Just as I thought.
    Despite the ominous dance he remained unafraid. He was hesitant to trust in Urda’s illusion, but she had delivered much with little effort. He would dare to believe. The serpentine light lashed out like a whip. But the Beast was quicker and dropped his heavy fist like a mace, shattering the light into crystalline shards. He stepped over the puddle and cast a wary eye at the dissolving fragments.
    The low stone ceiling forced him to hunch and the tunnel narrowed with each step. Halfway through, the suffocating passage smeared slimy mold onto his cloaked shoulders and scraped at his curved horns. The coffin-like tunnel spilled into a round chamber of shining obsidian walls. Several crackling braziers dotted the room’s periphery. The Beast traced a smooth wall with a clawed digit. Overhead, an oculus of ruby and onyx blocked an unseen sky.
    A boy of no more than five winters sat by a brazier. His knees were tucked under his chin and waves of stringy hair caked with grime clung to tear stains. A filthy tunic did little to hide welted limbs. His eyes darted to the menace of dancing shadows and widened when the Beast’s giant form filled the entrance. The Beast awkwardly gestured for calm, thinking himself the cause of the child’s fright. “Be not afraid.”
    The boy shivered into his knees and leveled a finger. His raw lower lip quivered. The Beast extended an outstretched palm. “I will not harm you.” He struggled for a re-assuring tone and crept closer, fully expecting a shriek sure to shatter the oculus. The boy remained still, as though carved from stone. The Beast realized then the power of Urda’s enchantment. He was indeed merely a visitor.
    The Beast was waving a paw before the boy’s eyes when a faint clicking sound ebbed into the chamber. His skin crawled at the awful noise. He snapped to the narrow tunnel, finding nothing in the deep dark. He rushed to the boy and scooped him onto his back. He tore the closest brazier free and hurled the burning sculpture overhead... A rainfall of shattered glass tossed glints of fire over the walls of obsidian mirror. The Beast spun around, shielding the boy. “Hold tightly, boy.”
    The Beast mustered his strength and leapt into the newly ventilated ceiling. He found his mark and clamped down hard. His brawny legs dangled, building momentum. His grip slipped and he slid