Reunion by Kara Dalkey Page B

shaky, “has commanded you to leave. Do so at once.”
    The girl gazed at Vortimer with her beautiful aquamarine eyes. “I, too, am of . . . noble family where I come from. My cousin is . . . was . . . going to become a king. But he is dead and . . . my homeland and people are in terrible danger. I might be able . . . to save them. But I must . . . have . . . the shell or I— we —,” she said, pausing to look at Corwin, “—will die.”
    Corwin felt his stomach curdle like old milk . Die? Me? Why? What do I have to do with her people being in danger?
    After a moment’s silence, Prince Vortimer started to laugh. “This is the most amazing claptrap I have ever heard. My father has taught me the names of the royal families of every kingdom of importance, particularly princesses, in case a diplomatic match might be made. I have heard of no one who looks like you. Frankly, I don’t care if you live or die, sorceress. But I promise you, you will surely die if you stay an instant longer.”
    The girl sighed heavily and Corwin could feel her frustration and despair, but also her determination and courage. She didn’t leave.
    If I weren’t hurting so much, Corwin thought, I could take this opportunity to run away. I don’t want anything to do with her sorcery or this curse or her prince. I don’t want to die. I wish this were all just a bad dream or a hallucination. But the mind within his mind said, Stay. Help us. We need you. As if it knew his thoughts.
    â€œVery well,” Prince Vortimer said. “I hereby accuse you of using sorcery to attempt harm against the crown of Britain. I sentence you to summary execution. Guardsman, see to it.”
    The guard holding the sword glanced back at the prince with wide, uncertain eyes. “Y-yes, your Highness.” He came at her with his sword upraised. “Kneel, girl, and I will see that my sword’s stroke is swift and painless.”
    â€œNo, you . . . do not understand!” She held out her arms to deflect him and Corwin saw the palms of her hands. His blood went cold. Her right palm bore the same sun-shaped mark as his did.
    Is that a sign of the curse? Did she see the kraken, too? Suddenly Corwin sagged as strength was sapped from his body. Again a great blast of wind flew from the girl’s hands and the guards were blown backward. The one with the sword bravely struggled against the flow of air. But his blade began to glow red-hot, and with a cry, he dropped it to the ground.
    The inner voice in Corwin’s mind was insisting again, What is happening? What is happening?
    â€œPeace, my prince,” said the girl. “I am trying to . . . free you, so that we may complete . . . the Naming.”
    She hears it, too! Corwin thought, astonished. It isn’t just in my mind. She called it her prince. So this prince is the one whose thoughts I keep hearing inside of me? But its thoughts seem like those of a little child, not a devil or a royal. And what is a Naming, anyway?
    â€œLet’s get help!” Vortimer said to Faustus. The two noblemen rushed for their horses, untied the frightened beasts, and leaped onto their backs. To the girl, Prince Vortimer cried, “This attack against the royal family will not go unpunished.” To Corwin, he added, “We’ll have your head eventually, too, thief. You can count on that!” The pair galloped away, their guardsmen close behind them.
    â€œAh!” The girl cried out, reaching helplessly after the riders. Corwin realized that Faustus still had the shell.
    She raised her hands and Corwin felt even more strength seep out of him. The world seemed to spin and shake around him—these were sensations from the other mind, the prince-mind.
    But the girl was now too weak for whatever spell she was attempting and she slumped to her knees on the ground.
    Corwin worked hard to