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Cuban. Mind if I sit down?”
    Sikander stiffened with sudden anger. The man was only a commoner! Oh, his buflf-and-brown traveling clothes were of stout cloth and excellent cut, but a single glance showed they were certainly not those of a courtier.
    The man seemed to read his thoughts. “I'm traveling incognito, but I'm really Matthew Mantrell, Lord Wizard of Merovence and consort to the queen of that land.”
    Sikander stared, then leaped to his feet. “Sit, certainly, my lord, and forgive my impertinence!”
    The stranger sat down on the cell's only stool, then frowned up at Sikander. “I didn't mean to reverse things. Sit down, courtier!”
    “You—You do not mind?”
    “Hey, it's your cell.”
    Sikander sat slowly on the edge of the bunk, his mind in a whirl. Had this wizard come out of mercy, or to make him suffer for his wrongs? He could think of no other reason for his presence.
    “I need to know everything I can about the night you stole Princess Balkis away,” the Lord Wizard explained.
    The mention of the princess' name linked with that of the Lord Wizard, and Sikander blurted, “You were her master!”
    “Teacher, maybe,” Matt qualified. “Traveling companion, certainly—but don't worry, I haven't come to skin you alive. I'll leave that for her to do, when she gets back.”
    Sikander's heart sank at the thought of confronting an enraged wizard-princess. Then it bounced back up as he realized that for Balkis to seek him out, he would have to be alive when she returned. “Am… am I to live?”

“Oh, you'll go on living for a while,” Matt said, “at least ten minutes, probably ten days, maybe ten years—possibly even the rest of your life. Exactly how long I can't say—that's up to Prester John. But I have a notion it will have something to do with how helpful you are about finding the princess.”
    “I shall help! Ask me what you will!”
    “Fair enough.” Matt grinned. “Now, we know you had help from a lady named Corundel…”
    Sikander's face closed.
    “Don't worry, I'm not trying to trap you,” Matt said. “A lady named Chrynsis happened to mention that Corundel had filled in for her on the bedtime committee, and the other courtiers put two and two together.”
    “Have they indeed!” Sikander's face was still a mask at the thought that Corundel might yet betray him and paint herself as his victim and unwilling dupe. “How interesting. What fable has she told you?”
    Matt smiled, amused. If courtiers knew one thing better than any, it was how to lie—but this one wasn't very intelligent. After all, you had to be pretty dumb to commit a kidnapping on spec. “All Corundel told us was the name of the shaman who arranged the kidnapping with you—but for her to know that much, she had to have been in on the whole operation. In fact, she had to have been the one who set the whole thing up.”
    This last was more a guess than a deduction, but it worked. Sikander said angrily, “It was my idea as much as hers!”
    Pride, or a last ditch attempt to shield a lady? Matt gave the man credit for a scrap of gallantry and said, “No point in tryingto protect her now. We know the outline of what happened. You might help undo some of your damage, though, if you told us the details.”
    Sikander deflated with a sigh and started singing like a star tenor. Matt encouraged him with understanding noises and monosyllables, keeping the information flowing. When Sikander ran out of words and sat slumped in dejection, Matt said, “Well, I can't deny that you made a pretty thorough mess of things, but there's a chance we might be able to straighten them out. Did the horseman say anything at all about where the shaman was sending Balkis?”
    Sikander shook his head. “He said little but ‘thank you’ and ‘good-bye.’ I would guess he was openly a hireling.”
    “Sure,” Matt said. “Why should the shaman risk getting caught with the princess in his own hands? A lot easier to pay somebody