tell her mother they should be going in the opposite direction, but then she heard the sound of people talking. The Red Enchantress and her companion had joined another, and Snow had no trouble recognizing his voice. Tale Master Elton.
Whenever someone spoke, Snow and her mother inched forward a few quiet steps. They didn’t dare do more. Not with the stone floors and not with their enemies so close. Finally, they reached an archway and, after a few moments of silent gesturing, situated themselves at an angle from which they could peer into the room without being seen. The Red Enchantress stood at the opposite end of a large space. Elton knelt on the floor at her feet, and the man who must be Fidelus circled around them, his form a mass of shadows that kept shifting in and out of view.
“Someone in Story is telling tales,” Fidelus said as he scanned a piece of parchment. “They are writing about your broken oaths and the lies Tale Master Archimago told them.”
Elton sighed heavily. “My office has been mobbed with questions about the Muses’ oaths. Now the characters will want proof that what I say is true.”
“Nonsense. The characters won’t have time for questions, once we write Story’s End.” The man tore the paper in two and handed both halves to Elton. “I am nearly ready, but you must complete the second phase immediately.”
“ I must?” Elton looked as though someone had slapped him across the face. “But it is you who—”
“Don’t be a fool,” the man said. He lifted his index finger, and the strips of paper burst into flames.
Elton dropped them with a whimper.
The Red Enchantress began a low laugh. “You want to be their savior, don’t you?” she asked. She drew Elton to his feet and pointed at something out of Snow’s view. “Don’t you remember how it was after the first Unbinding? They adored Archimago. Made him their Hero. When we save them from Story’s End, who will they look to next?”
“You never said I’d have to slaughter characters.” Elton shook his head. “You didn’t tell me the Taleless would destroy Heart’s Place.”
“Let the Taleless do as they will,” Duessa said. “The more trouble they cause, the better. When the Taleless come for them, the terrified characters will flock to King Fidelus.”
“Frighten them; yes, I can do that.” Elton shook a strand of greasy hair out of one eye. “But must the Taleless kill them?”
“Oh, come now, Elton. Don’t be squeamish.” Fidel-us’s laugh sounded like steel scraping over stone. “Are your hands not already red with spilled blood?” He grabbed Elton firmly by the chin, and squeezed his cheeks hard so that he couldn’t look away. “You belong to me, and you will do as I say. Send the Taleless to the Ranch, so that we can squash this insufferable rebellion once and for all.” He pushed Elton’s face away with a sound of disgust. “But first. How many Tales do we have today?”
“Ten, my lord,” Elton said, his words nearly a whisper. “The number of Taleless we have already ripped out is many. And that’s not counting the others who now roam our lands.” He licked his lips. “The laws of Story say—”
“Curse the laws of Story.” Fidelus’s voice was hard as broken ice. “Do you think I care about any of it?” He thrust out a hand, and a stream of black fire shot through the air and scorched the stone wall next to him. “That is what comes of the laws of this Story. Do not think to question me. You are the only WI left.” He snapped his fingers. “You must work harder.”
Elton licked his lips. “But I’m also Tale Master.” He wiped his forearm across his brow. “And with the destruction of Heart’s Place and all the questions, I am doing the best—” The sound of glass shattering on stone cut him off.
“Enough!” Fidelus’s anger sliced the air. “One Villain still lives who knows where Amaranth hid the Scroll. Find me the Warlock’s Apprentice, or I’ll