Starlighter by Bryan Davis Page A

within.”
    “That’s the Blackstone prophecy,” Elyssa said. “Where did you hear it?”
    “My pappy taught it to me.” Tibalt continued his chittering while blending in words. “Turn left, my ratty friend? Are you sure?”
    “Anyway,” Elyssa continued, “one day I delivered Prescott’s clean laundry to his bedroom. No one was around, so I searched through his private desk and found all sorts of documentation about the Underground Gateway. I got so immersed, I lost track of time, and the head maid found me. She pretended not to care about my snooping, and I went home at the normal hour. But that night, some guards came to our commune and dragged me away.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been in the dungeon ever since.”
    “And Prescott faked the bear claw marks,” Jason said.
    “Drexel told me about that. He’s a double agent. Prescott thinks Drexel’s infiltrating the Underground Gateway for him, so Drexel couldn’t tell people about what happened to me. If that secret got out, Prescott would know who spilled the information.”
    “Why would Prescott be so interested in the Gateway?” Jason asked. “He’s been persecuting its members—it doesn’t make sense.”
    “On the contrary. It makes perfect sense. He’s obsessed with finding the gateway. Don’t you think having a finger sewn under your skin proves some kind of obsession?”
    Jason looked into her sincere eyes. She was still speaking about Prescott in the present tense, as if he were still alive. Maybe it was time to tell her what happened. He touched the edge of the glowing skin. “It’s not sewn. It’s burned in there. But it wasn’t my choice. You see, it was in Prescott’s—”
    “Explain later,” she said, waving a hand. “So I think Prescott is persecuting the fellowship because he doesn’t want anyone to find the gateway before he does.”
    “But why? He can’t rescue the Lost Ones by himself. If there really are dragons on the—”
    “Treasure!” Barely visible in the finger’s glow, Tibalt straightened for a moment. “The dragons collect the delights of their eyes, and silver and gold they pile up to the skies.” He crouched again and resumed his slow shuffle through the maze.
    “Okay,” Jason said. “Prescott’s greedy. I can believe that.”
    “The extane mining already proved his greed.” Elyssa rubbed her thumb and index finger together. “And this maze is thick with the stuff. With all the turns, there’s no ventilation, so the gas collects in pockets. We’ll have to detoxify when we get out of here.”
    “I thought extane was harmless.”
    “In small quantities,” Elyssa said, “but if you get too much, it can make your heart race so fast it could eventually fail. It’s a metabolic intensifier.”
    “How do we detoxify?”
    “We eat the bark of the manna tree. It’s a slow healer, but it should work.”
    Jason licked his lips. A bitter taste coated his tongue. Although extane was odorless, it definitely carried an acrid taste.
    “Aha!” Tibalt pointed at a faint light in the distance. “I told you! I told you the rats were our friends!”
    “The rear exit?” Elyssa asked.
    “I’ll find out.” Jason drew his sword and skulked toward the light. The air freshened, and the film on his tonguefaded. Soon, the source of light became clear, a gate with solid wood bars instead of iron. No guard stood on either side. Had he been called away by Drexel? Or was the security lax here? After all, who would try to break into a dungeon? And any prisoners who escaped from their cells would likely never make it through the maze.
    Jason grabbed one of the bars and gave it a hefty shake. Solid. He found a lock and tried a key, but the lock was already disengaged.
    He slid his sword back into its scabbard and stared at the gate. Why would they leave it unlocked? It didn’t make sense. He quickly tried each key until he found the right one. Taking note of the key’s notches, he left the gate