Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Chord of Life

“What in Oren’s name was that?” said Ilyria, fighting to control her temper. There was no time for it. They had a job to do here, and they were down to roughly three days by her calculation in which to do it. “You were laying unconscious one minute in a ridiculous room full of mirrors and now you are here? What is going on? Is this what you had pictured?”

Astrapi held up his hands in surrender.

“Forgive me, Ilyria,” he said, his tone contrite, “This,” he said turning around and gesturing toward the hall around them, “This is what I remembered, this where I tried to take us.”

Ilyria’s anger abated as she saw that Astrapi’s apology was genuine. “I remembered too late about the defense system. And then,” he smiled at her, “I remembered that you would figure it out and that there was nothing to worry about.”

“What kind of a defense system is a room full of mirrors?” said Ilyria, “And what if I had not?”

There was a brief flicker of worry across As