“Where are you going with the prisoners?” he asked, his sibilant voice grating in my ears. The same smooth, hissing voice that had informed us, again and again, that it would be better if we just told him what he wanted. “I was going to interrogate them again in a few hours.” He eyed us with a hungry smile. “Perhaps this time, a more delicate approach is required. We will see if a scalpel and a pair of pliers can encourage them to talk.”

Riley smirked. “Maybe you should try that on yourself, Luther,” he said mockingly. “It would certainly be an improvement.”

The other Basilisk turned on him, eyes narrowing to black slits, but Mist broke in before he could say anything.

“You had your chance, Luther,” she said, disdain coloring her voice. “Mr. Hill was not pleased with the results of your interrogation and has put me back on assignment. Your skills are no longer required.”

Luther bared his teeth with a hiss, making me tense. For a split second, I could see his other form, a thin black dragon with mottled green wings, looming over the girl. A chill raced up my back, even as the blood in my veins boiled. The image had been so real; I had never seen anything like that before.

Mist faced the furious Basilisk and didn’t back down. “If you are displeased, take it up with Mr. Hill,” she said. “Or, better yet, you could go straight to the top. I am sure the Elder Wyrm will be very interested to learn of your failure.”

The blood instantly drained from his face. “N-no,” he stammered, backing away. “That’s not necessary.” He gave us one last glare, eyes gleaming, before turning an oily smile on Mist. “Well, good luck, Miss Anderson,” he said, his tone oozing. “Perhaps your techniques will succeed where mine did not, but if you need any help, or expertise, you have only to call.”

“Thank you,” Mist said icily. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Luther nodded, gave us one last smile and continued down the hall. Mist watched him until he turned a corner and was out of sight, then glared at Riley.

“If you don’t want us to be discovered, Cobalt, perhaps you shouldn’t antagonize everyone we come across.”

Riley grinned. “Worried, Miss Anderson?” he replied. “I thought you wanted this to be realistic. It would have been more suspicious if I just took the slimy bastard’s insults and didn’t say anything.”

Mist shook her head. But she didn’t say anything else as she led us down the corridor again, moving a little faster now, until we came to the elevators near the end of the hall.

“Get in,” she ordered as the doors opened. We did, and the clones followed, flanking us inside the box. Mist pressed a button, the doors slid shut and the elevator began to ascend.