“Please!” Orla interrupted faintly. “Please quit saying that name. I—” She covered her eyes. “I see horrible things! Hideous monsters! Brutal death . . .”
“You see the Labyrinth. You see where you . . . where the Patryns have been imprisoned all these centuries.”
“Where we imprisoned them, you were about to say. But, it’s so real in your mind. As if you’ve been there . . .”
“I have been there, Orla.”
To his vast astonishment, she turned pale, stared at him in fright.
Alfred was quick to reassure her. “I didn’t actually mean I’d been there—”
“Of course,” she said faintly. “It . . . it’s impossible. Don’t say such things, then, if you don’t mean them.”
“I’m sorry. I hadn’t intended to upset you.” Although Alfred was completely at a loss to know why she was upset. And frightened. Why frightened? More questions.
“I think perhaps you had better explain yourself,” she said.
“Yes, I’ll try. I was in the Labyrinth, but it was in Haplo’s body. I traded minds with him, one might say. It was when we were going through Death’s Gate.”
“And did he trade places with you?”
“I think so. He never said anything, you see, but, then, he wouldn’t. It was even difficult for him to call me by name. He used to call me Sartan. Just like that. With a sneer. I can’t blame him. He has little cause to love us . . .”
Orla was frowning. “You fell into a Patryn’s consciousness. I don’t believe anything like that has ever happened to a Sartan.”
“Probably not,” Alfred agreed sadly. “I seem to be always falling into something—”
“You must tell Samah.”
Alfred flushed, lowered his eyes. “I’d really rather not . . .” He began petting the dog.
“But this could be extremely important! Don’t you see? You’ve been inside one. You can tell us how they think and why they react as they do. You can give us insight that may yet help us defeat them.”
“The war is over,” he reminded her, gently.
“But another one may come!” she said, fist clenching, driving into her palm.
“That’s what Samah believes. Is that your belief, as well?”
“Samah and I have had our differences,” Orla said briskly. “All know it. We have never hidden it. But he is wise, Alfred. I respect him. He is head of the Council. And he wants what we all want. To live in peace.”
“Is that what he wants, do you think?”
“Well, of course!” Orla snapped. “What did you suppose?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t certain.”
Alfred recalled the expression on Samah’s face when he said, It seems we have, after all, awakened at a propitious time, Brethren. Once again, our ancient enemy plans to go to war. His mind conjured up the image. Orla shared it with him. Her face softened.
“Talk to Samah. Be honest with him. And”—she sighed— “he will be honest with you. He will answer your questions. He will tell you what happened to us in Chelestra. And why we, as you think, abandoned our responsibilities.”
Alfred’s face burned. “I didn’t mean—”
“No. In a way, you are right. But you should know the truth before you judge us. Just as we should know the truth before we judge you.”
Alfred didn’t know what to say. He could come up with no more arguments.
“And now,” said Orla, folding her hands together in front of her, “what about the dog?”
“What about the dog?” Alfred looked uneasy.
“If this dog belongs to the Patryn, why is it here? Why has it come to you?”
“I’m not sure,” Alfred began hesitantly, “but I think it’s lost.”
“Lost?”
“Yes. I think the dog has lost Haplo. The animal wants me to help it find its master.”
“But that’s nonsense! You’re talking like a child’s storybook. This creature may be intelligent enough for its kind, but it is still nothing more than a dumb animal—”
“Oh, no. This is a very extraordinary dog,” Alfred said solemnly. “And if it is here in Chelestra, you may be certain that Haplo is here . . . somewhere.”
The dog, assuming that with all this talk they must be making progress, lifted its head and wagged its tail.