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Smoke and Mirrors II: The Danger

By Sovandar

"I can't believe Riley just walked off and left you like that..." John said. It had taken a few minutes, but Cedric was settled back in their base camp, and the bleeding had stopped again; John had used half the remaining whisky on Cedric's wound, hoping that might sterilise it a little, and he'd force-fed Cedric the remainder, to keep him calm - and hopefully get him to forget his excitement about the mysterious message. Quickening his pulse could literally kill him in his condition.

"Well, I can", Cedric began. He pronounced his words carefully, the occasional syllable slurring as the alcohol performed its function. "He's never ecs... exactly been selfless and thoughtful, has he?"

John shook his head. "That, he has not. He's even taken the gun with him... hope we don't need it."

"M...maybe you were gone too long... maybe he went to look for you..."

John shrugged. "Maybe. I volunteered to go, though, and he volunteered to stand guard; he should at least have waited until you were conscious, if he was going."

"He... he hates it when you do what you want to, not what you're told... you know him... takes it all personally when he's not in charge..."

"Well it's not like I have any reason to just do everything he..." John began, before deciding he wasn't going to argue with Cedric after all; that was the last thing they both needed. "Actually, never mind."

"He's like that... gets him in one of his moods... he can get surprisingly... surprisingly violent sometimes..." Cedric continued, the fog of an alcoholic stupor descending on him rapidly, amplified by the blood loss. "...like when Ellen talks back..."

"Hah, I have a hard time imagining Riley being violent", John said, suddenly doubting the words even as he said them; the way Riley had threatened Geraint, John actually could believe that there was a violent side to the half-caste man he'd never seen before. That thought worried him a little.

Then he did a double-take. "Wait... what was that about Ellen?"

Cedric's face twisted in a grimace. "Ah... no... forget it... shouldn't have said anything..."

John felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach; Cedric was hiding something. Something about Ellen.

Something bad.

"Cedric, what? What happened with Ellen?" he asked, more insistently.

"Oh... Christ... he... look, don't overreact..." Cedric began, and John knew this was going to be bad. "He... well, you know how Ellen is... always so superior and... demanding... Riley got really... really angry after she... decided not to do what... the things he'd told her to say to some investors... got the job done but... her way was better...." he grimaced again. "He hated it... threatened to cut her off without a penny... she threatened to tell..." he paused. "...er... tell everyone that it was all her, and she had papers to prove Riley was just pretending... and he... lashed out... and forced her to... to..." he swallowed. "Christ... I couldn't say anything..."

"*What*, Cedric?! What did he do?!" John shouted, shaking Cedric's shoulders. "Damn it, tell me! Tell me!"

"She's... not a maiden any more... John.... maybe that's why... why she's been so... well, strange, lately... no hope of marrying into high society... who'd touch her... it'd be such... such a scandal..."

It must be a mistake. Surely it was a mistake. It made no sense.

It made *perfect* sense. Ellen's sudden dark mood; Riley's evasiveness; Riley's obsessiveness and worry that everything John did was in some way 'about Ellen', the sudden extreme stress that Riley seemed to be under, as if he was carrying a greater burden than he let on...

It was... true!

John dropped Cedric's shoulders like the man was a hot ember, and recoiled. "Oh, my God! No! No! Not... incest?! Ellen?!" he said, panting rapidly. He could feel the tension rising in his chest, hyperventilating. He couldn't even *think*.

"Cedric... why didn't you tell me? I had a *right* to know, I should have known!" he said, his words hoarse, his voice a hollow croak.

"John... don't... it wasn't..." Cedric swallowed, nervously, his own voice fainter than ever. "It... they're not... blood relations... not like that..." he said, as if that truth excused it. "You'd just... have... overreacted... not really any of... of your business..."

None of his business?!

Ellen was *raped*...

...by Riley!

And Cedric had known all along.

None of his business?!

Was this his fault? Should he have confided in Cedric that he and Ellen had fallen out, and the reasons why? Cedric just thought they'd both been too busy to see each other recently, might not even know there was anything wrong...

She'd been *violated*.

He'd... hit her. He was suddenly sure, he'd thrown the first strike in their brawl. He'd *attacked* her when she was at her most vulnerable.

Pushed her away.

Let himself be pushed away, when she needed him most.

Let her be isolated... in what must be part of a campaign Riley had been waging against her.

Cedric knew.

God damn them both, these men he called his friends! What good was friendship when it was based on such a lie?!

"...John?" Cedric said, slumping a little. "...I'm sorry... don't hate him..." Cedric continued, before his voice descended into a snore, a fit of unconsciousness overcoming him.

That was Cedric's first thought? John's fiancée was raped, by her own brother... he'd destroyed John's engagement by fornicating with his own stepsister...

...and Cedric's first thought was to try and make sure John and Riley stayed friends?!

This was madness.

John had known Riley for nearly two decades. For all the ups and downs of their friendship, for all that he silently looked down his nose at the embittered young man, he'd never thought of Riley as anything other than his friend.

For the first time, John Huntingdon looked at Cedric Smith, and saw a complete stranger; a man he didn't understand. He couldn't stay; he could hardly even think.

He rose. Cedric would just have to do fine by himself.

He glanced into the mirror room as he passed; the apparition still nowhere to be seen. The mirror, despite its earlier terrors, still showed only a reflection, no trace of a haunting presence to be seen.

He walked onward, thinking to check his watch; a quarter past five already? Where had Riley got to all this time?

He picked up his pace, hoping he wasn't too late.

* * *

+

Being deep in reverie was the only explanation for why he didn't see nor hear anything, not until he bumped heavily into a wall of green flesh that hadn't been there moments before. He yelled with fright, recoiling, before he realised that he recognised the tabard-wearing lizardman.

"Geraint! You damn near frightened the life out of me!" he exclaimed, trying to recover his breath.

Geraint actually looked rather startled as well. "I did call your name, John of Huntingdon... I was not expecting quite so... *loud* a reaction...."

"Sorry; I've... got some things on my mind."

Geraint cocked his head; a rather birdlike gesture. "Is it a matter I can help with? I confess, you are more pleasant company than your... rude half-blood comrade."

"His name's Riley", John snapped. "Sorry... no, I don't think it's something you can help with. I... have you seen Riley around here?"

"No, I have not, though I have heard many sounds of roaming in this place. It is... well, until this place is empty, I dare not sleep again."

John was mystified. "What do you mean?"

Geraint's lips curled in a way that made John think he was smiling. "I am a guardian, sworn to this place. I sleep when it is empty... and wake when mortal man sets foot here again."

John pondered a moment. "Er... don't take this the wrong way... but you don't seem to be doing much guarding..."

"I am an honour guard, sworn to keep this place safe until the next time of Brytenwalda... and you have magic more potent than any I have seen. Your 'gun' shows your mastery of the Art."

"Ah. No, it's not magic, it's..." John started, before realising he had little idea how to explain the concept. "Er, you heard of gunpowder?"

Geraint shook his head.

"Ah. Well... it's something that explodes, and... pushes a bullet out of the gun..." he grinned, sheepishly. "It's a bit hard to explain."

Geraint shrugged. "All magic is."

John paused, deciding not to argue the point; that explanation could take a long time. "Er, look...My friend, Riley, still has that gun... and I think he'll shoot at you first and ask questions afterwards, so... er, could we stand out of the corridor?"

Geraint nodded, stepping back into a side room, and gesturing for John to follow. It wasn't until John was inside, and the door was being shut and bolted behind him, that he started to wonder if he was being *far* too trusting here.

Still, not much he could do now.

He cleared his throat. "That's better. Look, going back a step... what's this Brytenwalda you're waiting for?"

Geraint's eyes narrowed; John realised he was frowning, rather than glaring. The lizardman's expressions were hard to read, but not impossible.

"Not 'what', it is 'who'. *The* Brytenwalda. The High King?" Geraint gave an irritated hiss as John looked mystified again. "You still have Kings, surely, and elect a supreme leader? Else how do you decide who is the High King, uniting all the Kingdoms in Britannia?"

"Er... we still have... well, it's a Queen, now, Queen Victoria... she rules the United Kingdom of Great Britain, and the British Empire, but there aren't any other Kings and Queens in Britain, and she's not elected. I've never heard of... a High King, Brytenwalda, or anything."

"Ah", Geraint said, slightly sadly. "My, how times have changed... and as I feared, I have been forgotten, along with this place."

John recalled something. "May I ask... would the phrase 'Round Table' mean anything to you?"

Geraint's eyes lit up suddenly. "Ah! It still exists? There are still loyal knights who serve your Ki... Queen?"

"Well, it doesn't exist as such... but we've all heard the stories! King Arthur of Camelot, his wife Guinevere, his enchanted sword Excalibur..."

Geraint bared his teeth in a smile, making a hiss that John decided was a chuckle. "I have not heard of it being called 'Excalibur' before, but his sword was enchanted, certainly; so heavy that the shortsword was heavier than a greataxe, and it cut through even the finest armour like butter... it was forged here, and so powerful it was..." he sighed. "I am pleased to see that his name lives on, at least."

"And... er... this may sound like a strange question...." John began. "...but... are you a knight of the Round Table? You said you were Sir Geraint..."

"Indeed, I am... or rather was, since that title died along with Arthur."

"I see... don't take this the wrong way, but how did a giant lizard get to be a knight?"

Geraint chuckled again. "Ah. Well, I was not *always* cursed with an animal's form... I was once a man, like you."

John's jaw dropped. "A man?! No, you're not... but... how?"

"This place, the ancient fortress of Libarn, has a great many magical secrets hidden away; I triggered some sort of trap, though I know not what, only that it made me... inhuman, powerful, and immortal. I sleep through the long years, but I do not *die*... a curse, surely, I awaken only when the sounds of movement rouse me from my slumber, as you did." He sighed. "We had such hopes... but none of us could decipher this place, or control the powers within... none save Myrddin."

"Myrddin?"

"Arthur's Court Wizard, and originally my mentor. He was a great scholar and a powerful sorcerer, learned in the ancient arts, and well-versed in the Old Ways." Geraint shook his head. "He never did think that the word of Christ was more than a... passing fancy. Poor fool."

"Oh," John said, the penny dropping. "You mean Merlin!"

Geraint looked puzzled. "His Latin name was Merlinus, if that's what you mean... but, no, he was Myrddin. He..." Geraint looked away, his voice suddenly changing tone. "No... I do not wish to speak of him. The memory is... painful. No doubt you will know this from your histories."

"Okay", John started, wishing he'd paid more attention to Arthurian legends. "Er, there was something else... oh!" he said, cursing. Cedric! He needed medical supplies! How could he have forgotten that?! "Ah... my friend is injured... not Riley, the foreigner; the other man like me. There was a... a bit of an accident. Do you have any medicines, any bandages, anything like that?"

Geraint frowned again. "I am no herbalist..."

"Okay, any... magic, or anything? You must know more about this place than us, at least!" he tried.

"Hmph. I know plenty. I do not know a great deal more. There is powerful magic here, but I have neither the desire nor the ability to harness it. I tried, once... it turned me into..." he gestured to his body. "This. It is too unstable and unpredictable to..."

"Hey", John said, interrupting. "Like you said, we've got 'magic' of our own that you don't understand. Tell us what you *do* know, I might be able to do something."

Geraint still looked undecided. "Please," John added. "Cedric might die... you're a Knight of the Round Table, so, are the legends true? Are you really pure and selfless and ready to help those in peril?"

Geraint scowled. "You do not know what you ask. Literally. You have not seen the harm that can be done..."

"Please", John begged. "At least let me know more, so I can judge for myself."

Geraint was silent for a long moment. "...I... I suppose you are right..." he said, hesitantly, evidently wrestling with himself internally. "I cannot stay entirely silent if it might save a life."

The lizard gave a sighing hiss. "The mirror... it is some sort of focus for the energies of this place... and it is a bad thing to experiment with. Particularly as..." he turned away again. "I do not know what may have been done, or set in motion. But I fear that Myrddin may have left... traps. It is why I guard this place to keep away the ill-prepared."

John's eyes widened, and he shivered as he remembered his first encounter in that room. "When I was there the first time... Cedric and I. we both saw... well, it seemed like, a ghost..." he said. "And when I went back later, the room was... this sounds so strange... it was clean, as if someone had polished it good as new! What does it mean?"

Geraint's expression remained impassive, and he was silent for more long moments. "You should leave. Immediately. I do not know what this means, but... if this is Myrddin's work..." He gave a low growl. "I had wished not to speak of it, but it seems it is forced on me anyway. Very well; know this. Myrddin went mad; betrayed Arthur. None of us saw it coming until the deed was done."

Geraint looked saddened. "We knights came here for vengeance, and to ensure he didn't seize the throne, or abuse the powers of this place further... a dangerous task, for he alone could marshal the great magical forces found here." Geraint paused, a faraway look in his eye. "It was a massacre; in the end only I, and his ex-lover Morrigan le Fay, were left alive. But it was a sacrifice we had to make; he had already killed both Arthur and the royal heir Mordred, and he had manic dreams of an eternal Empire built here, forged in fire and magic, led by himself as immortal Emperor..."

John hesitated. "Erm... not to sound rude... but that doesn't sound like any Arthurian story I've ever heard. I thought... er, I heard Merlin was a good guy."

Geraint sighed. "For a long time, he was... and I called him friend, as we all did. He learned how to use this place, though it cost him his humanity, and used it for the good of the Kingdom..."

"Wait, so... he was... like you? A lizard-man?" John asked, puzzled. "I don't remember that in the legend either... though..." he paused, thinking. "...actually, I do remember hearing Cedric tell me that Merlin was a shapeshifter..."

Geraint scowled. "Legends twist with time, it seems; not *precisely*, but yes, he was similar to me, a human man transformed into some... strange creature. But where I was changed accidentally, he transformed himself willingly; it was the price for learning the secrets of immortality, eternal youth, and more."

"So, he was power-mad?" John asked.

"No! Well... not originally..." Geraint said, squaring his shoulders and gazing into the distance, a reverent tone in his voice. "He sacrificed himself so that he could help Arthur push back the invading Saxons; if not for him the war would have been lost. Myrddin served unconditionally and wholeheartedly; in only a decade Arthur had declared himself King, been declared High King by his allies in Mercia and Cumbria, and wielded the most powerful military in Britannia - an army the likes of which had not been seen since the fall of Rome!"

The shoulders sagged again, and Geraint almost visibly deflated, as he remembered how it ended. "It... it was painful when it fell apart. Rumours said that Myrddin's skill with the arcane was a gift from the Devil; that no mortal man was meant to hold such powers and remain uncorrupted... perhaps we should have listened."

"So what are you saying? He set a trap that we've triggered somehow? Some last revenge?"

"Perhaps. But I would not even trust that so powerful a mage can be constrained, even by death itself... you say you saw a ghost, felt a presence... there is too much about this place I do not know." He fixed John with a steely gaze. "I had thought this place dead; but perhaps it was simply dormant, perhaps there is more danger here than I realised. Leave. It will be safer for you, and I am sure you must have physicians who can aid your friend better than I."

"Erm..." John said. "The thing is, we're somewhat trapped... the exit's been blocked by a cave-in, we need to wait a day or two for rescue..."

Geraint started to unlock the door, sighing. "That... complicates things. I will go and see if there is anything I can do for your friend, if you will tell me where he is; you had best retrieve your mongrel companion before he does someone harm, and we should stay together until you are rescued."

John hesitated. Should he really trust Geraint? Did he have a choice?

"Okay... the open room nearest the base of the stairwell to the surface, halfway between it and the mirror room. And, Geraint... thanks", he said. Regardless of how foolish Cedric might have been in supporting Riley's actions, even if only with a lie of omission, John still valued him as a friend.

They would have to talk when Cedric was healthier.

"Thanks are unnecessary", Geraint said, straightening his tabard. "As you said... it is simply my duty."

With that he set off into the darkness. "Wait!" John said. "Don't you need a light?"

"No", said Geraint, walking away. "It is light enough for me."

Strange fellow.

John walked on several paces, the sound of footsteps rapidly receding into the distance. But then, he heard the sound of footsteps somewhere *ahead* as well. An echo?

He stopped moving. The other footsteps continued.

"Riley!" he said, his stomach suddenly churning. He had no idea what to do if he did meet Riley. Could he pretend to normality for the sake of survival in here for a day or two? Or would he be bound by emotional turmoil to make the accusation, see how Riley responded... see if this was the end of their friendship?

"Riley!" he said again. The footsteps stopped.

"Greetingssss..." said a low, hissing voice; and from around the next corner stepped another lizardman.

This one was smaller than Geraint; nearly five inches shorter than John's six foot frame, in fact, whereas Geraint was nearly a foot taller than John. Where Geraint had been thickly muscled, this lizardman was lithe, lean, and wiry; its tail was shorter by a good three feet. Its posture was slightly less... hunched, inhuman, than Geraint's, but one could not have mistaken it for a human.

It was also wearing only a loincloth that looked to be made from a grimy piece of torn fabric, extremely makeshift; but, it carried an ornate, polished staff of some sort of wood. From the ease with which it walked, John guessed that the staff was not a walking-stick, yet the creature still leaned on it as it stood in the corridor, in a way that gave a sense of great age, and weariness...

"I said, greetings..." it said, raising its voice. "I apologise for my garb, but I have been unable to find more suitable attire that fits... but no matter. Ah, where are my manners... we've not been introduced."

"Er... no... no we've not..." he replied, feeling a tad belligerent, and more than a little scared. There were not supposed to be any other living... creatures like this one; but, from what he'd been told, he could imagine only one possible identity for this one. "I am Baron John Huntingdon of Newport. And you are Merlinus, late of the Court of Camelot."

The reptile's lips pulled back in a faint smile. "Ha! Very good... my reputation evidently precedes me! Well met, then, Baron Huntingdon... may I call you John? I do prefer not to stand on ceremony, and I'll spare you my rather long list of titles if we're on first-name terms..."

John tried to stand as tall as he could manage. "I'm not intimidated by long-forgotten epithets, Myrddin. Before you say another word, you should know I've spoken to Geraint. I have no intention of falling for any tricks."

Myrddin sighed. "It has been such a long time since I've had guests... but, mercy, I have barely introduced myself and already my old adversaries have you in their sway! Might I at least hear what I'm accused of, so I can defend myself against this slander?"

"I..." John began. Had he said too much? Was he in danger? Might Geraint have been exaggerating, even lying outright? Might he simply be putting himself in the middle of an ancient feud he had no desire to take part in? "I've heard you're a wizard."

Myrddin scowled. "My, what a crude term, though it has fewer negative connotations than 'warlock', at least... but come now, John, you sound like an educated man, you know there is no such thing as magic, correct?"

John sighed. "Actually, no, I'm really not sure that magic's not real any more. Do you have any idea how many impossible things have happened today? I was told you were dead, for a start, and now I just happen to run into you wandering the halls! I take it, at least, that rumours of your death were greatly exaggerated?"

Myrddin shrugged. "Not entirely; I reincarnated myself from my earthly remains after you and your companion awakened the Mirror. I'd evidently not prepared correctly before my... demise. So, I owe you my life; I am in your debt."

John cursed internally; he had a feeling this would turn out to be a very bad thing indeed. "Oh. But that does rather prove my point about the impossible things that are happening..."

"Hah!" Myrddin laughed, with surprising warmth. "Well, some things are, at last, explicable once you know how. But, no, there is no magic at work. Think of it..." he paused. "Think of it like... what if you took a steam train, a Tesla generator, and an Edison light to the wilds of Africa, and showed them to the natives... they would think of them as magic, correct? Perhaps they might even worship you as a god, perhaps they might attack you for fear you were a demon. But it is nothing more than knowledge, correctly applied... no more unnatural than a rainstorm, or the sun, but equally inexplicable to those seeing them without the benefit of education. Geraint, bless him, was always more in the 'superstitious' category, much though I tried to dispel the notion... as no doubt you've come to suspect already."

John hesitated. How did Myrddin know so much? "Forgive me for saying so", he began, suspiciously, "but how do you know about steam engines, Tesla, Edison?"

Myrddin laughed again. "No doubt I could persuade you I had read your mind! But no, the explanation is mundane: your friend Cedric spoke at length about the scientific marvels you have built in the years since my... slumber began. I shared with him a few of the insights I've gained from this place; I know your predicament, and I believe I can help. Caer Libarn has 'electrical generators' of its own - or at least, I presume they are the same, I know them as 'negaton potentiators'. Once those are working, I think I can heal your friend more thoroughly than the crude bandaging I've managed thus far." He grinned. "I do believe we can all learn from one another; ah, I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to find people who can speak on my level! Ah, but why are we standing twenty paces apart and shouting? Why not step closer?"

John did not move "You talk a good game, but I'm still not planning to trust you; Geraint said some... disturbing things about you."

Myrddin's expression darkened. "Has he been filling your head with his poisons? Perhaps you would care to hear *my* side of the story before rushing to judgement? Right from the beginning?"

John nodded. "Okay. I'm listening..."

"Geraint was a young squire in the service of Caer Mallwt, a lowborn youth who wanted to learn magic, more fool him. I was Arthur's head scribe, and a true master of esoteric knowledge", he smirked, "if I do say so myself! I knew medicines, mathematics, languages... but most valuably, I knew how to dig coal, create a furnace, and smelt iron ore. It was a skill that had nearly vanished since Rome abandoned Britannia... People said that I was omniscient, that I was a sorcerer to conjure swords from the stone itself, and that with such powers Arthur was destined to become High King, Brytenwalda..."

Ah, thought John. That explained the legend of the sword in the stone; it had a certain ring of disappointingly mundane truth to it.

"...but no, I just knew how to do things they had no conception of. So many of the natives were convinced that Roman weapons had been forged by the Gods of Olympus, and could never be copied; they refused to even try, called it heresy! Imagine that!" he chuckled. "The war went well, but demanded so many resources... we came here to dig more coal, and found something in the coal-face... I'm sure that these events, at least, are personally familiar to you - since you found this place, too. I'll spare you the details, but I came to the chamber containing the Mirror, the focal point of this place's mysterious powers..."

"I thought you said it wasn't magic?" interrupted John.

"Eh? Oh, it's not, a turn of phrase... Now hush, where was I? Oh, yes... Arthur and I, we looked into it, long and hard, convinced we could see movement beneath its surface somehow. Arthur grew frightened and looked away; I continued. And the Mirror... *chose* me."

"Chose you?"

"Yes. The Mirror is... a conduit, of sorts. A powerful one, to be sure, and one I do not understand entirely. But it is a machine that can, in its own way... think." Myrddin paused to let John absorb that. "The eyes are the windows to the soul, they say; when you try to look into it, see what's beneath the surface... it looks *back*, it sees what you are, what manner of man or creature. It is *lonely*... it wanted someone to be close to it, know everything about it, help it... and Arthur ran. So it began to communicate with me, to share itself... it caused some disturbing hallucinations, for a while, but once I had learned to interpret the subtle flickers and shifts... oh, the knowledge, the incredible wealth of learning it gave me! I... took on a new form, so that it could speak to me more clearly, it made me immortal, and young..." he sighed. "It's never shared itself with anyone in the same way again... others can speak to it, and it responds, for a while - until you look away. Then it is dormant again."

"...speak to it?" John asked. It sounded pretty unbelievable.

"Oh, indeed... one can ask the Mirror for many things, and it *may* grant them... I stress the *may*. Its ways are... strange; it has its own sense of morals, too, and takes it upon itself to punish those it deems... criminal."

"I'm not sure I follow... how does a mirror punish someone?" John asked, still mystified. "It's... well, it's just an object."

"With community service, of course, to keep this place clean and repaired..." he broke off. "Well. It is... complicated. But it *changes* people for a time, until it feels they have served their penance. It makes them... well, like me, in a way, but utterly bound to menial tasks, unable even to hold a conversation for more than necessary to serve Libarn's interests."

"Er... it compels you to work?" John asked, uncertainly.

"In a manner of speaking. It corrects personality flaws, or perceived flaws, that led to the crime; and provides an overriding desire to serve Caer Libarn's commander until such time as the sentence is deemed served. Something small like petty theft, you might get a month; something serious like murder, and you might get a century or more. But at the end, all is returned as it was before; though the convict can choose to keep the new form or personality if they choose; they are only released from the *compulsion* to work."

John felt a crawling sensation on his skin. "Erk. That sounds... discomfiting. What is this machine that decides what to 'fix' about people? It sounds more like something from Mary Shelley... ever read Frankenstein?" he asked, without thinking. "Ah... actually, never mind", he said, quickly, flushing with embarrassment. Obviously Myrddin hadn't read recent novels. "It sounds scary though. Do they remember who... who they used to be?"

Myrddin gave a sighing hiss, his expression serious. "Yes; the Mirror... it can only reflect what is there, and distort it. It can't create or erase a lifetime's experiences, change memories, anything like that. Rather, it... alters what one is willing, or able, to do, and can sometimes make more severe personality changes to prevent future crimes - letting a psychopath feel guilt, perhaps, or removing a paedophile's lust. It also alters the criminal physically, to be better suited to their new role - either as an Engineer, like the form I have; a Soldier, like Geraint; or a Guardian.... that's a sort of, well... hard to describe, but imagine a crocodile grown to the size of a horse and the shape of an attack dog, and you won't be far wrong. It's still sentient, but unable to speak, and bound to very tight rules for obedience; for the most dangerous criminals, you understand."

He chuckled, his expression turning mirthful again. "Normally it's up to the victim - or a recognised representative - to decide on what the best changes would be, to recompense them for their suffering. In exchange, they're kept healthy, happy, warm, safe..."

"But inhuman", John observed, dryly.

"What's so great about being human?" Myrddin asked, with a chuckle. "I was an old man... now I'm young again, alive for the second time already, hale and hearty, able to enjoy life to the full. This form is simply... better."

John grimaced. "I'll have to agree to disagree with you on that one. None of this has anything to do with Geraint, though."

"Hah!" Myrddin interrupted. "You say that, but, Geraint, you notice, isn't human either! He committed a crimen, in the Mirror's eyes, and betrayed me." He sighed. "I confess, it was my own fault... he read me well, and laid his scheme well, too. He saw my weakness for youth, he seduced me most expertly, stole my personal notebooks, and tried to take control of Caer Libarn, lead a coup against Arthur. He had dreams of taking the 'magic' for himself... he didn't understand..."

"Er... seduced you? But aren't you both... well, men?"

"And?" Myrddin looked genuinely aggrieved. "Surely the concept is not unknown in your era!" He scowled. "Not a Christian, are you? One of those damned missionaries intent on stoning or burning everyone who doesn't already agree with their arbitrary moral code?"

"Ah... well, technically, yes... er..." John tried to recall the last time he'd been to church. Had it been Christmas in '76, with his parents? "Well.. not actively... er... not for years..." He sighed. "Look, I'm... a bit surprised, but, really, it's nothing like the other surprises I've had today, so, never mind. Ah, do be careful what you say, though; Riley is... quite devout. He really would disapprove." A faint thought stirred in his head...

"Really?" Myrddin said, bemused, interrupting it. "Oh. I trust I didn't offend him when I met him earlier... Well, thank you for the warning. But, yes, Geraint was amenable - insofar as it involved a gain for him, at least. In hindsight I simply think he was a good actor... he used me, and I didn't see it coming until far too late. He had a decade of hard labour in his new lizard-form for that, and got kicked off the Round Table that he'd only joined the month previous. Arthur asked me personally to ensure he was not permitted to become human again afterward. Geraint *hated* his new body, and Arthur wanted him to always remember what he'd tried to do. Mark him out. Leave him unable to hide the disgrace." Myrddin sighed. "I was weak. I asked the Mirror, and my request was granted."

"I see", John said, not sure if he did, or should trust this version of the tale.

Myrddin sighed. "I should have seen it coming. Mordred, Arthur's son, was the heir to his throne; he promised Geraint his humanity back, along with his knighthood, if Geraint helped him kill his father. My wife, Morrigan, was promised a position as Mordred's Queen, and thus bought..."

"Wife? I thought you... were that other way inclined?"

"Hmph. For your information, Arthur's Court was extremely devout; Morrigan preferred female company, I preferred male. It was simply convenient for us to marry, for form's sake, and let each other do as we pleased. Don't misunderstand, we were good friends, and we worked together, enjoyed each other's company... consummated our wedlock on occasion, as was the custom..."

John flushed; this was not a topic that usually came up in conversation, and it disturbed him a little.

"Have I offended? My apologies... I have gathered your society is rather more prudish than we were back then... No matter, I shall continue", Myrddin said, breaking his reminiscence. "They used explosive devices stolen from here, and razed Caer Mallwt to the ground, killing hundreds of the finest troops.." His expression darkened. "So I had my revenge on Mordred, the same way he'd killed *my* King. I didn't reckon on Morrigan and Geraint coming here afterwards, else I would have prepared! I still gave as good as I got, that traitorous bitch... but Geraint struck a killing blow and fled, leaving me to die. I didn't have time to reach the Mirror, and it was left dormant, waiting..."

"Until we arrived? We... woke it?"

Myrddin shrugged. "So it appears! I wandered for a while to ascertain the state of the place. Which is... poor. Then I came to find you three, to ask for your assistance, once I had determined that you were not the traitor Geraint. Your friend Cedric is well-versed; he's doing well at fixing the negaton potentiators... does that answer your questions?"

John was having trouble remembering what he'd even asked. "Er... I guess it does... for now. I'll be honest... I'm not entirely sure I should trust you, still."

Myrddin shrugged. "You've only just met me. Besides, to be fair to us both, I have no idea what I shall do next... though, Geraint needs to be dealt with. I'd favour banishing him to the surface with you, though I'm not sure that will do my reputation much good... perhaps I should talk with him. I'm not sure that will do *any* good, but it is the moral thing to do, even now... do you know which way he went?"

John scoffed internally; it was easy to claim the moral high ground if one was willing to lie, and he had no possible way to verify Myrddin's story. On the other hand, the same went for Geraint's story, too; and Geraint had not seemed so... well-versed in the running of this place, which might give Myrddin an edge.

Still, Geraint had not *asked* for anything, not *required* anything; that suggested selflessness, to some extent.

Myrddin, though, wanted this place - which he, presumably, was in charge of - fixed and repaired. That was a double-edged sword. Distrust prickled down John's spine. Should he betray Geraint?

Buy time.

"He went that way", John said, pointing down a corridor that Geraint hadn't taken. "It's been a good ten minutes, probably more, though."

"Oh, don't you worry... I know this place like the back of my hand... and I can take care of myself, it took two of them last time!" Myrddin said, starting to walk that way, pushing past John. He was definitely a corporeal being... that was one possibility removed from the picture, at least.

"Wait!" John said, turning as Myrddin went past him. "You said you'd found Riley... where is he? He vanished a while ago..."

"Oh, he's heading back to your 'base camp' by now... got lost, poor fellow", Myrddin said, continuing to walk into the darkened corridor.

"Wait!" John said, again. He felt off-balance... he'd not asked anything he wanted to ask, Myrddin had just kept talking! "There's a lot I still want to know! What is this place, for a start? Nobody's said anything about who built it! Or why!"

Myrddin chuckled again. "I'm often credited with omniscience, but I'm afraid there are many things even I don't know." He turned, walking backwards for several paces, so that he was facing John; he gestured to his reptilian body. "After all... I'm only human!"

Then he stepped beyond the range of John's lantern, and was gone. John lingered for a long moment, feeling a growing unease, before he decided not to follow.

Could he trust Myrddin? After all, he had only Myrddin's word that his inhuman form was not because he was sentenced for some ancient crime. If that rigmarole about the mirror was even true! He might just want to persuade them to help fix the place, then get rid of them so Myrddin alone could use it.

On the other hand, it couldn't be possible to fix the place overnight, and in the morning they'd be rescued. Problem solved... if they played along for a while.

He sighed. One lizardman had been confusing enough, without finding a second one, then finding that the pair were willing to kill each other. John had an uncomfortable feeling that the three humans might not have the option of walking the middle path.

John felt more inclined to trust Geraint than Myrddin... it hadn't escaped his attention that Myrddin had barely let John speak a word, glossing over key details, controlling the flow of information. Plus, he'd left in an awful hurry; forestalling more questions and claiming ignorance on the ones John *had* asked, even though surely he must know something if he'd studied this place for years... long enough to learn so much about the Mirror.

Neither of the lizards' stories were verifiable; he just had to pick who to trust. So John knew what he had to do. Head back to base camp. Talk. Learn. Plan. Persuade Cedric... and Riley.

He hesitated as he thought of Riley. His immediate anger had faded, but the sickening feeling of betrayal, of trust violated, hadn't. It probably never would; some things simply couldn't be forgiven and forgotten.

Now, really, how could John look Riley in the eye and cooperate for the next 24 hours, knowing what he knew?

He began to retrace his steps, cursing Cedric for letting the secret slip *now*, of all times. Things were... complicated.

* * *

Base camp was deserted.

"Damn it all, Cedric!" John cursed. Why on Earth had Cedric gone walkabout, again, in his condition? This was already the second time, the man must surely have a death wish.

Ah, wait... Myrddin had said that Cedric was fixing the... negating... negative... potentially...

Fixing something.

But where was that?

"Cedric? Riley?" he called, down the corridor. No answer. "Geraint?" he added, wondering if the lizardman had managed to find the place. Maybe they were all together.

Maybe Myrddin was trying to divide them, keep them running in circles.

He called again, louder, walking down the corridor, opposite to the way he'd arrived. He checked his watch; gone eight, already? He must have been walking and mulling for longer than he realised. But... actually, thinking about it, he had been brooding an awful lot after he left Cedric two hours ago; that wasn't so unlikely.

He glanced into the chamber with the mirror, as he passed. Then he paused, and returned to the doorway.

Cedric had bled on the floor, over there on the far side.

So why wasn't there any blood there now?

He felt a prickling of unease again. Had there been blood earlier when he glanced in, after leaving Cedric sleeping? He'd not thought to check, he'd been preoccupied with... other things.

Ellen.

Focus. Concentrate. This had happened before; footprints and dust too had vanished. Now Cedric's blood was also missing.

Why?

He drew a blank. But this room needed a closer examination.

He stepped inside, swinging the lantern around; the mirror stood, as before; the inscription on the wall. He glanced up; the mirror was still, silent. He felt no presence; saw nothing. He strained his eyes to see... was there any movement besides him? Any trace of anything, any subtle presence of a... machine that could think?

"John?"

He nearly leapt out of his skin with a yell as Riley's voice came from the doorway, only inches from him.

"Gyaaah!" he shouted, and Riley recoiled with a startled yell of his own. "Riley?! What in God's name did you do that for? You scared me half to death!"

"Hey, you're the one who was calling me!" Riley retorted, straightening his overalls with a faint sneer. "Just now. I didn't expect you to... well, not expect me! Where's Cedric? He's not in the room!"

"I know!" John snarled back, feeling a sudden and startling surge of anger.

I know what you did, Riley...

"I know he's not there!" John repeated. "He's bloody mad, he keeps wandering off, and in his condition, too!"

"Well, why didn't you stop him?" Riley asked, crossing his arms defensively.

"Me? I wasn't here! Why didn't *you* stop him? Where did you get to, for Hells' sakes?" John retorted.

Riley frowned at the curse, tutting slightly in a way that irritated John far more than usual. "Well, while you were off pursuing your favourite lizard, I needed to urinate. Rather than do it in our little safe-hole, I decided to find somewhere else." He pointed back down the corridor. "Next five doors, that way, all locked or broken. The stairwell, I decided not to... sully. Came back this way, saw this room, remembered that you and Cedric both said not to go in, so I didn't. Find a room round a few corners, relieve myself, and then remember I don't know the way back!" He said, crossly. "Shouted myself hoarse, wandered for an hour or more, then this smaller lizard-man appears, says his name's..."

"...Myrddin?" John interjected, feeling curiously disappointed that it had been the truth that they'd met. If Myrddin had lied about that, it would make the trust-question easier to answer.

"Yes... wait, how did you know?"

"Met him too", John said, simply.

Riley waited a few seconds, but John stayed silent. "...Right. Well, he tells me that he's actually Merlin, and this place is King Arthur's, and that he can fix Cedric if we help him, and not to trust that Geraint lizard because he's out to turn us against each other... or something. He told me the way back, and went off to find you; said he'd already met Cedric, and that Cedric was helping him fix... something."

"Anything else?"

"...no... should there be?" Riley asked, mystified.

"Damn it, doesn't this strike you as odd, Riley?" John asked.

Strike you? Give me a reason, you bastard, and I'll strike you all right, smash that self-satisfied nose into what I leave of your face...

John cleared his throat. "Two... reptiles... both wanting us to work against the other? Which do we trust? I'm hoping that if we swap details, we can check Myrddin's story, at least..."

"Wait, *both* want us to work against the other? You met Geraint again? He's out to kill Myrddin? It's true?"

"Wha... well... not as such... maybe..." John admitted. "He says we shouldn't trust Myrddin, that Myrddin killed Arthur and his heir, and tried to take over the Kingdom..."

"Myrddin says Geraint did that." Riley shrugged. "And that Geraint's a... sodomist." He sneered at the word. "Myrddin's actually helping us, though. That other bastard, look what happened to Cedric, thanks to him! I say we believe Myrddin. So, no more scheming with Geraint, if you find him. Remember, I'm in charge. This place is *mine*, I found it."

John's temper nearly exploded. How did Riley dare lay the blame for his utter failure and incompetence on Geraint's shoulders, after threatening him, insulting him...

How *dare* Riley presume to order him around, take command, and claim all this as his by *right*, when john was only here, only in danger, as a favour to him... when Riley had stolen Ellen from him, taken his dreams...

Raped her... Ruined her life...

John felt a sickening lurch in his gut, as if some dark, horrifying realisation was trying to escape from him; he felt his skin break out in a cold sweat... what was it?

...Oh.

Revenge.

Suddenly, John knew exactly what he was going to do, with a clarity that frightened him. His anger cooled and knotted into a hard tangle in his belly. Strengthened him.

"Well... Myrddin did tell me one thing, that you've not mentioned..." he began, entirely calm. It felt like he'd rehearsed this. Maybe he had, the idea had been forming in his head for hours, he realised.

"What?" asked Riley, not seeing John's turmoil.

"He mentioned that this mirror... the one in here... it's actually some sort of machine, a machine that *thinks*, if you can believe that... and that it chooses the *rightful* owner of this whole complex, obeys him or her... if you look into it for long enough, and *force* it to obey..."

Riley's eyes widened. "What? Nonsense, poppycock! I've never heard of such a thing..."

"Had you heard of lizards that walk on two legs before today?"

Riley stroked the stubble on his chin; he needed a shave. "I... suppose not." He shot John a suspicious glance. "So, you came in here to try, is that it?"

John looked away, not meeting Riley's gaze. "...I... suppose I did... you never know..."

"Ha!" Riley laughed, a tad cruelly, John thought. "Your problem, John, is you have so many ambitions, but not a wit to accomplish a single one! Come now, let a better man try..."

John's stomach churned, and he suppressed a venomous retort. What had got into Riley all of a sudden, to make him so... vindictive? He was *definitely* seeing a new side to his friend. One he could only too easily believe could... do that to Ellen. His anger re-ignited.

If Myrddin was telling the truth, he'd have his revenge. If not, he'd know who to trust.

Riley stepped into the room, raised his lantern, and walked slowly towards the mirror.

"This is... it? I was expecting something that... well, a bit more... impressive", Riley said, sounding disappointed. "What's it supposed to do? I don't see what more..."

He spun, suddenly, pulling the revolver from his pocket, with a sudden yell of "Oh, my God! Look out!"

John ducked as the revolver turned in his direction. "Holy-! Riley, no! Stop!"

John fell to the ground, covering his head... and several seconds passed. Silence. No gunshot.

"Riley, for God's sake, put that gun down!" he said, sternly. "You really will be the death of us all at this rate! What on Earth got into you?!"

Riley was staring in John's direction, his skin grey with shock, eyes wide. He had, at least, pointed the revolver away. "My God, John... I... I saw... was that a ghost?!"

"No... no, it's just your imagination, I'm sure!" John said, unsettled for many reasons. What if Myrddin was lying? What might...?

"It was... I swear that looked like Ellen... Ellen, with... Christ almighty, what does it mean, John?" he said, his voice nearly cracking. "Is this some sort of... test? Is it *supposed* to torment me?!"

"So... Riley... why would Ellen... *torment* you...? Something on your conscience?" John said, coldly. "Something you need to... get off your chest?"

"W...what?! N...no... of course not!" Riley stammered. He was suddenly scared, and not of the mysterious vision he'd just seen.

It was true.

"Look into the mirror, Riley."

"But... but I..."

"I said, look in the mirror..." John repeated, standing, and stepping forward. He felt calm; certain. Vindicated. Riley was guilty. "Look in the mirror, and tell me... tell me what you see..."

Riley hesitated... then turned, slowly, and gazed into the polished metal surface. He gasped.

"Riley? What do you see?" John asked, stepping close behind him.

"It's..." Riley whispered, falling silent.

"What do you see?"

No response.

"Riley?"

No response. Riley just continued to stare at his reflection, expression vacant, shoulders drooping.

John reached forward, and plucked the revolver from Riley's grasp, setting it carefully down on the floor, making sure the safety catch was on.

He glanced over Riley's shoulder, and suddenly, he felt a *presence*.

All around. Encompassing, encircling... questioning...

"Mirror... are you... judging him for his crimes?"

A shift. Was that... affirmative? It was hard to tell...

"I am the... betrothed of his victim... are you asking me to decide his fate?"

Another subtle shift. Yes?

"I..." he started. What, though? What could he do? What should he do?

What would *hurt* Riley..? Riley, the prudish, devout, conservative, bitter man who was a foreigner in his own home, who received subtle racist contempt from the world around him and responded with angry venom, however much he tried to conform and fit in..?

"I... think it appropriate..." John began, finding it hard to say the word 'want'.

But, couldn't the Mirror communicate by thought? Couldn't he just... *think* what he wanted, envision his perfect revenge, without the... sheer difficulty of *saying* it..?

Become as a beast. Docile. Obedient. Consumed by a primal urge to mate, commit the most original of sins... mate with a *male*, and only a *willing* male, the very kinds of people Riley despised; John felt a thrill of delight thinking of how much Riley would *loathe* that!

Yes, to desire to mate only with the willing; but never his own species, the bestial form like the one he'd inhabit... only other males, human, reptile, anything! A primal lust that could never be sated, always present, never-ending...

Riley. Inhuman. Reduced. Consumed by unholy desire.

Degraded. The way Riley had tried to do to Ellen.

A fitting punishment for a man who used rape as a weapon.

And suddenly John was being pushed aside as Riley, with a yell, seemed to awaken from whatever trance had befuddled him. He turned, shoved John aside, and *ran*, screaming with terror.

The last thing John felt before his gaze fell from the Mirror's surface was a subtle shift in the presence, again. Done.

Riley's yells echoed around, retreating into the distance. What should John do? Should he follow..? Should he stay?

He felt a sudden chill. What had he done? Surely, this was madness... an insane dream...

Nothing had happened. Maybe Riley had been innocent? Or had Myrddin lied? Maybe it took time...

No, no, *something* definitely happened. Riley would not have run like that if he had seen only his reflection in the mirror. Riley wouldn't have stood, entranced, like that.

Had John been... entranced, too? He checked his watch. Six minutes past eight... no, that was about right, he wasn't missing hours of his life.

Oh, no! Cedric! Where was Cedric?!

He'd forgotten his friend and employee for the second time in as many hours. If he wanted to be a better man than Riley, he'd best find Cedric and make sure he wasn't doing himself an injury again.

He strode to the door, glancing back at the Mirror as he reached it - and paused on the threshold.

You can ask it for many things... and sometimes it may grant them. That's what Myrddin had said... near enough.

"Mirror?" John said, trying to focus. "Mirror?"

Nothing.

Feeling a little foolish, he spoke louder. "Mirror. Show me Cedric." Nothing. "Show me my friend, Cedric Smith!" he tried.

He was about to turn away when a faint ripple caught his eye... and to his amazement, the reflection in the Mirror shifted...

He saw Cedric, stripped to the waist, sweating, labouring over a collection of strange devices and metal bricks, by the light of an oil lantern. His leg was bandaged, and the bandage was bloody... Cedric propped himself up on a bent piece of a metal railing... but he was healthy.

"Cedric!" John called, stepping forward. "Cedric!"

Cedric didn't respond, and John stepped forward. Was he seeing through the Mirror, some magical doorway to the other side? Or some sort of... image, like a painting?

Paintings were not bound to the present. Was this happening now? The past, the future..?

His outstretched hand touched solid metal, where his eye saw empty space. No, the Mirror was still there... just where it had been.

Was it like a zoetrope? He'd heard of amazing new photographic films that captured motion, too, but they took weeks to prepare and develop, they couldn't possibly be exposed, brought from wherever Cedric was to here, developed, and projected onto the Mirror like a screen... there was no time!

"Mirror! Where is Cedric Smith? How do I get from here to where he is?"

He reeled in shock as something forced its way into his head... and he suddenly knew where to go, as if the route were as familiar as his own home...

His gaze broke from the Mirror, and without a sound, it showed merely a reflection again.

He could take knowledge from it!

This was amazing! What manner of power this place held...

He felt an uneasy chill as he realised that, perhaps, he and Cedric could afford to trust neither reptile.

* * *

The walk to Cedric's new workplace took only a few minutes. John checked the oil in his lantern carefully; he still had perhaps two hours left before it needed refuelling. Riley's and Cedric couldn't be *that* much fuller.

Belatedly he realised they should have taken more effort to conserve the oil, they had only one 8-hour refill each, having not expected to get so... trapped.

"Cedric!" he called as he approached, eager not to sneak up on Cedric the way Riley had sneaked up on him. He gave a vindictive grin for a moment; showed him, the bastard.

"John?" Cedric replied. "John! Thank God you're okay! I was worried..."

"Really? Why?" John said, rounding the corner and stepping into the room marked 'Strong Destructor Vessel' - words ominous enough to give him a chill, though he couldn't fathom why.

The room inside was bigger than he'd expected; it was perhaps thirty feet high, and fifty feet to a side - and oddly, almost empty save for a strange series of hollow cylinders of metal and glass that emerged from the floor, a dozen, each about six inches wide and filled with a white powdery substance. No, he saw; only *some* were filled; the rest were half-filled, or empty... though one, oddly enough, was stained blue.

They were thirty feet high, reaching up almost to the ceiling, and it looked like they were designed to sink into the floor; they could see circular yellowish markings where, presumably, more cylinders could slot into the ground. Or perhaps, were already slotted in.

Cedric was working at a metal-topped workbench along one wall, with a haphazard pile of what looked like lockboxes to his left, and a neat stack of metallic bricks six inches long on his right. The only illumination was the flickering lantern-light from Cedric's lantern, and now from John's too; the shadows thrown by the huge cylinders were ominous and deep.

That meant the Mirror's viewpoint must have been suspended in mid-air...

"Sorry, I was gone longer than I expected..." John said, hesitating, unsure how much Cedric recalled. "I had... a few things to think about after our chat."

Cedric's brow furrowed as he thought. "Er... oh? What... what was it we were talking about...? Oh! Yes, of course, the inscription!" he said, his eyes lighting up.

John sighed with relief; he didn't remember. That was a topic John didn't want to discuss right now.

"You won't believe what's happened to me!" Cedric said.

"Let me guess..." John said, calmly. "You woke up being bandaged by a lizard who said his name was Myrddin, which is another name for Merlin, who said that yes he's the man from the legend and he knew King Arthur, and that he could heal you if you helped him fix a... a potentially.... negative..."

"Negaton potentiator?"

"Yes," John confirmed. "Just a wild guess."

Cedric gave a mildly disgusted 'hmph', though the twinkle in his eye suggested he didn't really mean it. "Cheater. You met him, didn't you? He went to find you and Riley." He laughed. "Amazing, isn't it! I'd never have dreamed that one day I'd be discussing the finer points of the latest in electrical engineering with Merlin!

This is big, John... I mean, really big! I've worked some of it out, Myrddin's race don't have the same names for things that we do, but I can work some things out! Negaton Potentiator, he said, it generates a negaton potential... Have you ever heard of 'electrons'?"

"Er... can't say I have..." John said, his heart sinking; Cedric could be impossible to stop when he was excited.

"Electrons! The particles that carry electricity! They're negatively charged... negatons, you see? Just a different name! A device that creates electrical potential, we call a generator... they a potentiator... but that's not all!"

"What else?" John asked, resignedly.

"This... device, their potentiator, this 'Strong Destructor Vessel'! I asked Myrddin how much power it put out... we had to work out a few common measurements, but by all that's holy, John! This device is one of ten, and each one generates a thousand megawatts! The entire city of London only has a two-megawatt power station, and it's got spare capacity! Why, each one of these generators, it has enough energy to power the whole Empire a hundred times over, probably more - and these are just their reserves! The main generators here are something called Strong Synthesis Vessels, three of them, and each of them are twenty thousand megawatts! That's, twice the size of all these reserve generators put together!"

Cedric's eyes were looking into the far distance. "It's more power than I ever dreamed could exist... and so small! Deptford Power Station burns coal and covers several square miles, but this generator has a volume of cubic yards!"

"Hold on a minute... you're fixingthis 'destructor' vessel, and you don't know how it works?" John asked, a little perturbed. "What doesn't sound safe..."

"Well, I'm just taking the old ashes out and putting new fuel in! I wouldn't be able to build my own... yet... but once I've seen it working, experimented a little..."

"I'm not sure that'd be wise..." John said.

Cedric continued, not even noticing the interruption. "It's something to do with burning a fuel that Myrddin called '90', which needs something else made of '93' to ignite it, like a safety match... though he said there were other vessels in here that used '92' instead... but he laughed when I asked whether 91 got used! Strange fellow... I'm working a few things out, though. Have you heard of the Curies? French scientists?"

John thought. "No?"

"I recognise this..." Cedric pointed at the bricks of metal. "It's a metal extracted from pitchblende... it's got a property called radioactivity, nobody quite knows what it is or why..."

"What's that got to do with... all the numbers?" John asked, baffled.

"This is '92'! The Curies called it uranium... I tried seeing if 92 was some property of uranium I could remember, but without any reference texts I haven't the foggiest!" He laughed. "Old King Arthur really didn't know what he had here; Myrddin described handheld weapons we can barely *dream* of in this place... something he called a FULRay, a lethal beam of *light*, John - a gun the size of a rifle, but with the power of a large cannon! A focused unidirectional light ray based on metastable 72 - I don't even have the foggiest idea what that means! Strong Force Creation and Destruction weapons; Logic Engines; Dualistic physics; Radiance Attrition; Biocoding machines... there so much to learn, here!" He was smiling broadly. "Exciting, isn't it!"

John didn't feel particularly excited; in fact, in many ways, this talk was reminding him just how much they were all out of their depth here - toying with forces they could barely even describe, let alone understand. "So, you know what 92 is... not much of a start."

"And '90'! This stuff..." he opened the nearest lockbox, and pointed to the contents; it was full of the same white powder as filled some of the windowed cylinders. "I wish I'd learned more about chemistry, I have no idea what this substance is! But it's the generator's fuel, so I'm filling the fuelling tubes here while Myrddin fixes the generator on the floor below. Once it's all fixed, he says he can use some of the medical facilities... if their medicine is as good as their engineering, I'm as good as cured!"

John gasped. "Whoa; another floor? This place must be bigger than I thought." He paused, pondering, looking the exuberant Cedric up and down.. "And, er, don't take this amiss, but you don't seem like you're in need of medical help..."

Cedric grinned. "I... think I've still got some of that whisky to get through my system... and Myrddin gave me some injection, said it would ease the pain... God, it was like someone had turned the switch off!" he chuckled. "Whatever it was, I felt better right away, leg completely numb!"

John smiled uncertainly. "Oh. Well... that's good... you seem a little... high?"

"High! Yes, I expect I am! My God, John, do you understand what this means? Whoever built this place, they managed to understand radioactivity, and control it, a branch of science we've barely even dared imagine, beyond even science fiction, things HG Wells and Jules Verne dared not even suggest! To control matter at the most fundamental level... they built electrical generators, each one of which could power the whole world, and used ten of them together to meet just their basic needs! It's... it's unimaginable!" He grinned, a sudden greedy glint in his eye. "And it's ours. We have science now, knowledge, understanding that Myrddin didn't... we can use it, John, reverse-engineer, copy it, make our own uses of the underlying principles! A whole new industrial revolution, and the men running the show... that's going to be *us*!"

He gripped John's arm with the full strength of his miner's heritage. It hurt.

"*Us*, John! Imagine!"

There was a disquietingly mad glint in his eye, and John paled. Cedric had always dreamed of being famous, making a big leap forward, being a famous engineer... but he was stuck as a factory foreman, in John's pokey little factory in Swansea. No hope. But he'd had such ambitions, once...

"Cedric... let go..." Cedric was his friend, had been for years, ever since Oxford... he was just drunk, and high on painkilling drugs... and high on his own hubris. But he was starting to *worry* John. "Think about this! Who made this place, whose science is this, what's it for? If we don't know, it's dangerous to use it!"

"Who? Who... the Einath! That's what Myrddin said... that's all he knew! Ancient creatures!" The gleeful glint in Cedric's eye reappeared. "Didn't you look at Myrddin? Didn't you recognise that morphology, that shape? He had no idea, not a clue, and we're better than him, we can see it!" Cedric said, his voice rising in pitch, nearly hysterically. "Fossils, John! We've seen their fossils! Darwin was right! Don't you see?! These were dinosaurs... millions of years ago, they must have evolved and advanced, like men, acquired the powers of *gods*! They died out, but they left this, this amazing place..!" Cedric cried out, nearly at a shout.

He stopped abruptly; noticing, at last, John's wide-eyed terror, his utter lack of response to what Cedric was saying. "Cedric..." John said. "You're hurting my arm..."

Cedric's eyes traced slowly to where his hand gripped John's shoulder in a firm lock. Quite suddenly, the pressure was gone, the hand snatched back as if burned. "I... I'm sorry, John... I got carried away... but you see what this means!"

John backed away. Had Cedric gone mad? Was it just chemical stimulation speaking? Either way, conferring with his friend no longer seemed such a good idea. "Cedric... calm down... you've lost a lot of blood, you've been drugged; it's affecting you..."

"I said I'm sorry, John!" Cedric said, seeming upset suddenly. "You can help! Here, it's easy, I'll show you..."

"I'm not sure this is a good idea at all... what was this place made for? What if Myrddin's lying and he doesn't want to share it after all? They had all this power, why are they gone?! I'll bring Geraint, you should hear..."

"Geraint? Pfah!" Cedric nearly spat. "Myrddin told me all about him... now *he's* the one you want to be careful of! He just wants us to leave, John, so that he can kill Myrddin and take all this for himself! Or maybe persuade *us* to help him kill Myrddin! He can't be trusted, you must see that?"

John shook his head. "No... no, I don't see that at all. Geraint promised to help us, no strings attached..."

Cedric guffawed. "Oh, right, so how come he's not helped us a jot? Come off it, John! Myrddin's helped me a lot, and he came and found you, and presumably he's out looking for Riley too... actions, louder than words, John!"

John stepped back, hovering in the doorway uncertainly for a moment. "You've only got Myrddin's word for any of this, Cedric! He could be lying, this could all be some game of his that we're playing! What if you do what he asks, only to find that the power is just an illusion, this machine is all... smoke and mirrors for some nefarious purpose of his? Please, Cedric, if our friendship means anything, please, don't rush into this blindly..." With that, he stepped out into the corridor, and strode away in a hurry, giving Cedric no time to argue further.

"Pfah!" Cedric spat again, as John fled. "Geraint won't stop this! It's worth it, John! Don't you see?!"

Cedric's parting words were a hoarse shout, a sudden note of bitterness entering it, tempering the hysterical edge. "It's worth anything, John! The things we can learn here..! Anything!"

* * *

John made his way back to the Mirror Chamber; it was the only route he really knew, after all, and at least that area around base camp was familiar territory. He walked slowly, giving himself time to think.

The alcohol and whatever drug it was, had made Cedric more chaotic than usual; but the underlying thinking was the Cedric he knew. A minor polymath, stuck in a job that... John regretted... they had both expected to be a *lot* more than it turned out to be. John hadn't the spare cash to finance him for pure research; so others only saw Cedric the Swansea engineer, and wouldn't take him seriously.

Not unless Cedric made a major discovery.

Maybe Myrddin had sensed that quality in Cedric, seen the potential to manipulate him; maybe that was the true purpose of getting Cedric to talk about the latest engineering and scientific breakthroughs - so Myrddin could imply something just beyond the limits of his understanding, something to tantalise, hold just out of reach...

Voices?

He turned the corner of one of the intersecting corridors, and yes, up ahead - around base camp, in fact - he could see a flickering lantern-light; and hear someone talking.

He started to walk forward, feeling a sense of great trepidation. He couldn't hear clearly, the voices were low, almost a whisper. Dare he interrupt? If it was Myrddin, could he catch him in a lie, make sure of who to trust...? If it was Riley, was it *safe* to approach now?

As he passed the Mirror Chamber, he suddenly remembered viewing Cedric through it. Why not again? Find out *who* was there... or *what*, perhaps.

Forewarned was forearmed; he needed to know as much about this situation as possible, and from a safe distance if possible. He didn't dare rely on Cedric right now; certainly not Riley. That just left him.

He stepped inside, and quietly pushed the door shut. "Mirror!" he commanded, staring at it intensely. "Show me Riley Jones, the... criminal I was with earlier!" he said. 60-40 odds Riley was one of the voices, he reckoned; and he would learn something regardless.

An image of base camp appeared; Riley was there, human, and Myrddin was with him. Riley was seated on his heavy winter coat, using it as a makeshift cushion; Myrddin was standing, leaning on his staff as before. Riley looked... contrite? Embarrassed?

Riley's left hand was green! The same hue as Myrddin's scales! John gave a slight smile of triumph. It had worked after all; it just took time.

"...and I can tell that's not everything..." Myrddin's voice suddenly said, quite loudly, making John jump with shock. The Mirror let him *hear* things as well?!

"...there's something else, isn't there..? Remember, my lips are sealed..."

"You're not even a Christian, you said so when we met earlier! What do you think you know about God, what God thinks of... men like me, who prefer other men?!" Riley said, accusingly.

John's mouth curled in a sneer of satisfaction. Oh, it was working perfectly... he thanked the Mirror silently.

"I served King Arthur when he and the Knights quested for the Holy Grail, and helped turn the Britons into a Christian people!" Myrddin protested. "I learned a great deal, including from some of the holy men you've quoted to me already! You are torturing yourself over nothing, why would God give you these feelings if it were sinful to feel them? I tell th... Ah, wait... I think I understand." Myrddin's tone mellowed. "...You succumbed to temptation, didn't you? You feel *guilty* for it..."

"What?! No, I... I..." Riley began, swallowing hard. "Once... I told Cedric... in confidence... and he thought it was funny... I... I liked him... sort of! He offered... occasionally, we'd... get a woman... to share..." Riley sighed. "Once... he got a lady from Cardiff... made me sit there while she... used her mouth... and he took her from behind... and... when she was done... her skirt was *bulging*..." He sobbed. "My God, it was so embarrassing... a cross-dresser pretending to be a woman... and Cedric *knew*! He... he said he didn't care the gender... as long as whoever it was, they were a good lay... God, I hated him so much after that... It was so... so..." he broke off.

"...he really had no idea what he was doing to you, did he?", Myrddin said, gravely. "I think Cedric is a foolish man to not realise it. But, in all honesty... you wished you could be so carefree, didn't you? Not feel guilty about... sex?"

"I... I guess... no, yes... it's also... I fell in love..."

"With Cedric?"

"...with John."

"Ah."

John's knees almost gave way with the shock. What?! Surely this wasn't true, Riley had never been...

Riley continued. "But he doesn't... he looks at Ellen, and I... wish he'd look at *me* that way... I... I *hated* him sometimes... I hated *her*... and... it *hurts*..."

"Ah. Perhaps you should have made the situation plainer to him", Myrddin observed.

"No! I mean... it'd be so... embarrassing... scandalous!"

"Well, really, why feel guilt about something you never did? And Cedric tricking you, well... you took confessional, I take it? Were absolved, and were advised that it wasn't really a sin?"

Riley hung his head. "...actually... yes..."

"Then you know I'm right; even your priest agreed. This burden is self-imposed... and that's why the Mirror has done this, changed you. Or, started to..."

Riley looked back up at Myrddin. "What? I don't understand?"

"The Mirror isn't cruel... it tries to help people, you see! If you're suffering, it tries to find why, put it right. You're suffering because you're afraid of part of yourself... you want to be confident, carefree, and to not be burdened by your heritage... and the Mirror knows that. That's why it's giving you this opportunity; it didn't create those desires, but it... encouraged you to accept them, that's why you're finding yourself so... erm... *conscious* of them suddenly. You see? If you let it, rather than fighting it, it will obscure your heritage with a coat of scales... it'll help you to be confident, to open up, and to accept yourself for who and what you are..."

"...but... I don't want... not that... not to be... inhuman!"

"You said yourself earlier, the body's irrelevant, God cares about the *soul*... hah, why, would you view me as inferior, corrupted, because of my form? If I am thus corrupt, what of your half-caste heritage, is that likewise cursed by the Almighty?" Myrddin asked, seriously, but also a tad mischievously.

"Er... n...no... I... I didn't mean..." Riley stammered. "I meant, I... like being human..."

"But you said earlier you hated your race for marking you out... so perhaps you're not as wedded to the concept of 'humanity' as you thought. It doesn't change who you are, just what you look like. There's no more harm in that than... changing clothes."

"I... I suppose, but I don't..."

"Let me give you my advice; let it happen. Don't fight and struggle so, don't beat yourself up and punish yourself. You'll be happier in the end." Myrddin smiled warmly. "*I* was. Though, I understand, at the outset... I was so very frightened."

"B...but..."

"This is a choice only you can make. But, if you *want* to be confident, calm, and... pardon my bluntness... capable of sex without tormenting yourself over it... you just need to trust the Mirror's judgement. It can't make you evil, it can't corrupt you, won't alter your memory or your soul... but it can help you become who you want to be, in its own way."

"I... I suppose that'd be... okay..." Riley said, very ambivalently.

"Worried your lizard body will be... unattractive? In practice, I actually found many women... and men... were enticed by the, er, exotic nature of my form..."

Riley flushed and looked away again.

"Ah. You've... also been enticed?"

"...No, no, I..." Riley said, before breaking off with a sigh. "...Yes. You really are a wizard, damn it, you know *everything*!"

Myrddin smiled. "Not *everything*, but I've had more than a normal lifetime to experience life... it holds few surprises anymore." He shifted, and there was silence for a long moment. "So... interested?"

Riley flushed a darker red and looked away again. There was a long pause.

"Well, I see that you are..." Myrddin said, pointing at Riley's groin; his overalls had grown a very definite bulge.

Riley gasped, pressing his legs together. "N... no... I mean..." He sighed again. "I... I feel so..."

"It's been a very long time since I had any such company... and you're more attractive than you think, Mr Jones..."

"Please... call me Riley..." Riley said, before gasping as Myrddin reached across and gave his groin a gentle squeeze.

"Not a word will ever pass my lips... it's up to you..."

"I'd... never do this... normally..." Riley panted. "But I'm... yes... please..."

Myrddin wasted no time; in moments, Riley's zipper was undone, and the man was almost literally being peeled out of his overalls to leave him shivering in his vest and damp underwear. The green, scaly patch of skin was half-way up to his elbow.

"I... I don't know..." Riley said.

"Hush... just follow your instincts, do what you *want*..." Myrddin said, pulling Riley's vest free of his lanky frame, and unbuttoning his underwear. "My, my...." Myrddin said, reaching a hand inside, stroking the still-hidden flesh. "You're better endowed than most..."

Riley gasped at the contact, but made no move to stop it. "T...thanks..." he said, pausing as Myrddin withdrew the hand, and leaned back. The lizard loosened his loincloth, letting it fall away from him.

"Ah!" Riley exclaimed in surprise, as a bare crotch was revealed below, devoid of any hint of masculinity. "You're... you've not got a..."

"Hush... I'm male... *very* male..." Myrddin whispered. "It's hidden away, inside... but not for long..."

Sure enough, there was a stirring beneath the skin, a faint flush of darker hue, and the very tip of something starting to emerge from a hidden slit. Myrddin sat back a moment, letting Riley see better. "You see? You'll have something like this, yourself... not yet, of course, but..." He grinned. "I must say... I'm curious what you may look like... as a lizard, you know... I've never really had... someone like *me* as company..."

The member that emerged from Myrddin's slit was a reddish-purple colour, tapered, and mostly smooth except for a series of regularly-spaced bumps along its underside. It glistened with intimate fluids as it rapidly extended to a length of six inches. Riley stared at it like a starving man shown a half-cooked banquet; desire and torment mixed in his expression.

"Calm... just do what instinct tells you..." Myrddin repeated. "It's up to you..."

He was cut off with a startled hiss as Riley practically leapt forward, overalls and underwear falling to his knees, as he tackled Myrddin to the coat-covered floor. The startled reptile was lying on his back, legs slightly splayed, with Riley pressing his body against Myrddin's slim, scaly torso, the human's now-bared maleness against Myrddin's shaft, rubbing them together, and taking hold of Myrddin's thigh with his other, scaly hand.

"Sssss! Oh... oh my..." Myrddin started, before giving another surprised hiss as Riley's human right hand grabbed the pair of penises and started to stroke them. "Grrrssssss! *Huff*... You... really did need... some..."

"Shhhhh..." said Riley, quietly, giving a faint moan. "I'm so... aaah... this feels ssso good..." he said, a sibilant hiss entering his whispered words.

"So *needy*... such a forthright, confident, lizard... oh yessss..." hissed Myrddin, as Riley pushed the reptile's legs aside, while Myrddin eagerly complied with the unspoken desire. "Ohhhh yessssss..."

Riley didn't respond, except to start gyrating his whole body, thrusting his throbbing maleness over Myrddin's erection, the slick lengths sliding easily together between Riley's fingers. He moaned louder... evidently enjoying it immensely.

But then he shifted slightly; his length started sliding wetly across Myrddin's scaly belly, and Riley's hand closed instead around Myrddin's shaft entirely, starting to pump it in earnest. Myrddin gave a startled hiss, his long, clawed toes clenching as his maleness was suddenly stimulated a lot harder and with greater intensity.

"Gnngh!" he said, his tail thrashing, teeth gritted. "C..close already... Don't... keep doing that... or I'll finish early..."

But Riley continued anyway, giving a pleasured groan as his scaly left hand rose from Myrddin's leg to his own groin... rubbing the rough surface across his human maleness, before taking his own meat in hand as well.

Myrddin's tail quickly ceased its thrashing, instead turning to a much more coordinated motion... it curled back on itself, stroking along its own underside, upwards towards his tailbase... then, with a hiss, the tip of Myrddin's tail vanished into another well-hidden slit, just below where the base of his shaft started.

"Ah! Yesss! Yesssss! Aaahh!" Myrddin cried, his toes curling again as suddenly he arched his back and, with one long hiss, released his seed across his chest, and Riley's; the human's hand continued stroking the throbbing reptilian rod as it spewed... his head leaning down to lick a thick ribbon of seed from Myrddin's chest...

"Aaahh... ah! Please... please, stop... too much, too sensitive!" Myrddin groaned, his tail slipping from his tailhole, trying to weakly push Riley away from him, detach the hand still stroking him now that his precipitous orgasm was over. Riley was having none of it... making a sound a little like a hiss himself as he carried stroking both erections mercilessly!

Suddenly, the human sat upright, his sticky chest parting from Myrddin's with an audible slurping sound, and gave a yell, both hands suddenly flying to his own shaft, now nearly seven inches long... and he, too, erupted, long steams of seed spurting across Myrddin's chest, the green belly streaked with white as the startlingly-dominant human painted and marked the amused and aroused lizardman beneath him.

Myrddin's maleness was already sliding back into his slit when Riley's cock had reduced its flow to a mere trickle, both males panting hard. "There", Myrddin said. "That wasn't so hard to just... enjoy... was it?"

"No... no it was... good..." Riley said, slowly, ceasing his stroking, the embarrassment creeping back. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me..."

"Hah! Well, you certainly came over *me*..." Myrddin chuckled, rubbing a clawtip around in the mixture of fluids on his chest. "And don't apologise... that was quick and simple, but I've not had a lover that *eager* in many a year!"

Riley flushed harder. "Er... s...simple?"

"Oh, well... I'd half expected you might... take my tail..." Myrddin said, slowly. "But, well, you said you weren't, er... happy with that sort of thing..."

"I think... actually... well, I suppose I might be... I... didn't expect to, er..." Riley looked away. "You... looked like you enjoyed it."

Myrddin grinned. "Many a man does, who's willing to try... did it seem *wrong*, that I was enjoying it?"

Riley shook his head. "...no..."

"Well, think about it. Maybe, when you feel more confident, you might be willing to..."

Riley gasped in surprise. "Ah! My... my arm... it's worse!"

Sure enough, the green scales had nearly reached his elbow... and the five-fingered hand now had one human-looking finger and four longer, claw-tipped, thicker digits.

"Ah, well... you did seem to be wanting to 'achieve' the new you for a while there... that can speed the process. Of course, to really make it faster, you'd need to go back to the Mirror itself, it's not effective at a distance..." Myrddin said, wiping his chest clean with Cedric's discarded coat. "You'd best have a good, hard think about what it is you want... and, if you decide that you'd like more of this... well, you know where to find me."

Riley's shaft was still erect, and the human hand started to tug at it, almost idly. "I'm... I'm still... really..." Riley said, panting a little. "Never... never felt like this..."

"Well... guess you should enjoy it while the mood lasts", Myrddin chuckled. "Some of us are satisfied with just the one..."

He re-fastened his loincloth and picked up his walking-stick. "I'll leave you to think about things; in the meantime, I'll go help Cedric. And, don't worry - not a word shall I say."

He walked out.

The echo of the door clanging shut along the corridor jolted John out of his rapt reverie. Wow; it really *had* worked. Riley was... becoming an insatiable beast. John grinned vindictively; perfect.

He only realised that he himself had an erection as the door to the chamber started to slide open. His head jerked around, and the image in the Mirror vanished as Myrddin himself stepped in, and shut the door behind him.

John froze for a long moment, like a schoolboy caught in the act. But then he remembered a few things - like Myrddin's description of the Mirror, he'd changed his tale...

"Having fun?" asked Myrddin, coldly.

"Actually, I'm considering your story..." John started. "You've not been honest with us, have you? Lied to at least two of us! How are we supposed to trust you?"

Myrddin looked amused. "'We'? You don't seem terribly unified to me, Baron Huntingdon. One friend, abandoned to bleed to death; and another, turned into... I don't even know what, actually." He fixed John with a level glare. "Besides, would you prefer I told Riley 'Hey, actually your secret love interest John thinks you're a total bastard and wants you to suffer as much as possible?'"

"Er...", John began, uncertainly.

"I didn't tell him the truth because, unlike *some* people I could name, I don't enjoy seeing others suffer, regardless if they deserve it. I thought I could at least do him the favour of leaving him happy with what's going on. Hell, he's probably whacking himself off again already about what an attractive lizard he'll make, and I don't even want to know why he's got such a ridiculously overwhelming libido." Myrddin sighed, his disappointment obvious. "I *trusted* you, John, I told you what the Mirror was and how it worked, because I wanted to help, to prove I could be your ally, even friend... I never imagined you weren't worth trusting. More fool me."

"That's not..."

Myrddin shook his head. "...And after abusing the Mirror's power to eavesdrop on us like that, I think it's pretty rich to be accusing *me* of being underhanded."

"What? I didn't use..." John began his denial.

"Oh, don't you *dare* lie to me now, you... hypocrite!" Myrddin nearly shouted, suddenly blazing with anger. "I was chosen by the Mirror centuries before you were even born! It *speaks* to me, I know who used it - and for what!" He shook his head in disgust. "You'd better be glad I found Riley before he did anything *really* crazy, he was just about off his head when I found him."

John's thoughts were in tumult. Wasn't he supposed to be doing the accusing?

Myrddin turned and walked out. "Just wanted to let you know how things stand, John. Now, since you've not helped, *I* am going to go make sure Cedric doesn't lose his leg. Just like I saved his life while you were off fantasising about how to make Riley suffer in as perverse a way as you could dream up." He spat on the ground. "You disgust me."

And with that, he was gone, leaving John in stunned silence. What was he to make of this? Guilt momentarily lashed at him; maybe he *had* gone too far.

No; Myrddin was a liar and a trickster, he had to be. Riley was getting a well-deserved, if unusual, punishment for a very serious crime; some might argue he was getting off lightly, seeing how he enjoyed it.

Where was Geraint? John needed fresh perspective, where was the lizard-knight who'd sworn to help?

John paused, a sudden and growing sense of unease filling him. Geraint had set off ahead of him... where *was* he? Neither Cedric nor Riley nor Myrddin had mentioned him being here, but he should have been here long before this. Had something happened, some delay?

"Mirror!" he shouted. "Show me Geraint, Knight of Camelot!"

A shift in the presence around him. Negative, it seemed to say. Denied. Not present.

"Show me Geraint, the other reptile who isn't Myrddin!"

Shift. Negative. Not present.

"I said, show me!"

Shift. Negative. Denied.

His lantern started to sputter; it was running low on oil. He cursed, breaking off his search for now; why was the Mirror refusing to show him Geraint?

Then, abruptly, he noticed the floor in here. It was polished, still, gleaming, empty.

But there had been a gun on it before. The loaded revolver was missing!