Reinheiser declared triumphantly. He held up a small splinter of wood notched into an angular design on one end. “Wonderful.” Mitchell scowled, pacing back and forth, his eyes darting anxiously about like some cornered animal. The long wait had played badly on Mitchell, eating at him. During the day, the pair had found no chance at all of getting out of the valley, for Ryell, or one of his cronies, seemed always about, watching their every move. And at night the pair remained locked in their rooms. Mitchell’s mood seemed particularly surly this night, Reinheiser noted, and he knew why: earlier that same day, the captain had seen DelGiudice escorted from the mountains to freedom. “Well, what is it?” “A key to our door, of course,” Reinheiser answered, smiling widely. At first the answer didn’t seem to register with the distracted man, but then his face blanched and he spun toward Reinheiser. “Where the hell did you get that?” Reinheiser laughed casually. “Did you really think that a locked door could defeat me?
What do You think about Echoes Of The Fourth Magic?
