“Then why would I want to risk death by entering the mansion and meeting Kyrine?” I asked.

“Because Keepers have access to an almost limitless supply of mana while inside their dungeons,” Belinda explained. “We know a lot about you, Jeremy. Your whole life has been spent tinkering with magic. As a Keeper, you could tinker to your heart’s desire.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Astrid put in. “Those others, we weren’t even sure that they were really full-blooded Keepers.”

“That’s right,” Belinda added. “Their genetic material was weak, diluted. They didn’t pass Kyrine’s test. But you, you’re different. We’ve done our research.”

Astrid winked at me. “And, thanks to Selena, we’ve obtained a genetic sample.”

So that’s where my toothbrush had gone. I’d thought I’d seen Selena going over my stuff in the bathroom of our apartment.

“You’re just what Kyrine is looking for.” Astrid paused and whispered under her breath, “We hope.”

“Besides,” added Belinda, “there’s no going back now. If we found you, then other parties could find you, too, and they might not be so accommodating. This way, you will be fulfilled beyond your wildest dreams. The other way, I’m afraid, lies only enslavement.”

Enslavement? Just who the hell were the other parties?

Well, avoiding enslavement was quite the motivation. And on the positive side, limitless mana and access to a fabled dungeon was definitely intriguing.

How did I get myself into these things?

I swallowed back the lump in my throat, turned back toward the door, and stepped into the mansion.

Chapter 7

As I passed through the mansion’s doorway, I was swallowed in the inky darkness. I could see nothing, though there was a sense of space around me. My feet made no sound on the floor.

When I took a breath, I found that the air was cool and a little stale. Behind me, Belinda and Astrid stood side-by-side, framed in the slightly lighter rectangle of the massive open door.

There was a sudden crackling noise, and I jumped. In less than a moment, hundreds of wax candles had flickered into life, mounted on the walls and hanging from the ceiling in huge, old-fashioned candelabras.

Where all had been darkness, now the entrance hall of the mansion was flooded with light.

I was looking down a broad entrance hall, perhaps thirty feet in length. A series of impossibly massive rugs woven in rich burgundy and bright gold carpeted the hallway, giving way to polished floors of dark hardwood at the edges. On each side of the hallway, corridors and doorways led off to left and right. Despite the candle light, the high, vaulted ceiling was cloaked in shadows.

“Kyrine certainly does have a flair for the dramatic,” I said wryly, gesturing to the freshly-lit candelabras, “but surely the mansion has an electricity supply?”

“Oh, yes,” said Astrid, “there is electricity, and electric lighting too.”