Now, as he approached the great double door that sealed the end of the corridor, he wondered if his astral perceptions had been only more hallucinations. If real, they should enable him to see what waited on the other side. What harm in another try?

He composed himself and willed the shift. The light muted and the color shift began, then everything jerked back to normal, with Sam suddenly lying on the floor. The result brought back memories of the Dwarf mage in Laverty’s guardroom and Sato’s magical bodyguard. Both had seemed to slumber, giving Sam the impression they were lackadaisical about their work. Now he realized they might have been working after all, using astral projection while their bodies seemed to sleep. He picked himself up. stepped to the corridor wall, and leaned against it. The exercise text hadn’t warned that he would lose control of his muscles, only recommended lying down to practice. Now he knew why. Braced, he tried again.

Once the colors shifted, he forced his point of reference to the door, hesitating a moment before pressing forward. His vision blackened for a fraction of a second, and then he was perceiving the chamber beyond the doors. Or at least thinking he was.

The immediate area was an antechamber that opened onto a latter space. On the walls hung paintings of great beauty, their emotional content varying wildly. The lure of those images and the pulsing sculptures that stood beneath the paintings at first distracted him, but once his view touched on the prominent occupant, he had eyes for nothing else. Behind a transparent wall of blue and enthroned on a mound of gold, silver, and jewels lay a Dragon.

The beast seemed made of golden crystal that sparked power with every motion. Distortions of light like tiny auroras flickered in the air about its head. The Dragon was in conversation with a tall, hairy figure that Sam recognized at once as Jacqueline, though she looked different. The Sasquatch carried a tasseled shoulder bag and an amulet of intricate design hung around her neck. At her side flashed a smaller aurora. Sam had no time to register more, because the Sasquatch bowed as though receiving orders. With the conversation over, Sam feared the Dragon would somehow see him if its attention turned his way. He dreaded discovery, for his spying would be considered impolite, at best. He knew the stakes had gone up and did not want to compromise his position with his apparent host, whatever that position might be. Besides, his new ability was an asset, all the more potent if kept secret. He retreated.

Sam was standing in the middle of the corridor when the doors swung open and an attractive woman with silver-blonde hair exited the chamber. She wore a business suit, but her necklace pendant was identical to Jacqueline’s amulet.

“Ah, Monsieur Verner,” she said. “You may go right in.”

There was no recognition on her face, and no sign that she had noted his intrusion. He nodded and walked past her, wondering what kind of game this was.

The moment Sam crossed the threshold, his eyes were riveted on the Dragon. Its golden scales glinted brightly, seeming to reflect and merge with the sparkling wealth that made up its bed. Its long neck was arched and its chin rested on a peninsula of treasure near the edge of the mound. It appeared to be asleep.

Sam drew nearer, treading softly. Of the rippling auroras there was no sign, but he suspected that whatever magic they represented had not gone away. The blue wall was also invisible, but he felt a tingling as he stepped past where it had stood. Looking down he noted a strip of arcane symbols inlaid in the floor.

Nearing the Dragon, Sam became truly aware of the beast’s size. Its head was longer than he was tall, and several of the teeth, jutting past the scaly lips, were longer than one of his hands. It was the first Western Dragon he had ever been near, but something about it was familiar. He put it down to general dragonishness because its odor was similar to Tessien’s. He took another few steps closer, stopping when he felt the breath sighing through the Dragon’s nostrils ruffling the light cloth of his trouser leg. The beast’s presence was oppressive, and Sam longed to flee, to escape from the great predator. He held his ground, though his knees felt weak and his legs rubbery.

Should he speak? What does one say to a Dragon?

The eyes opened, regarding him with pools of liquid opal.

“I am Lofwyr.”

It was as though Sam’s ears heard words, but he recognized that the Dragon’s voice was only in his head. He had not realized it before, but Tessien spoke the same way. This creature, however, was far more menacing than the feathered serpent. That worried Sam. It lay before him almost dormant, while Tessien had destroyed a panzer with flame and magic. He swallowed nervously, then hoped his voice would remain steady. “They call me Twist,” he said.

“Your they are not many, Samuel Verner.” Amusement rippled in the air. “Though I expect their numbers will grow.”

Startled by its attitude and use of his real name, Sam forgot some of his fear. “You know who I am?”

“Obviously.”

The dracoform had the advantage of knowledge while Sam was in the dark. How did this beast come to know about him? Emboldened by his annoyance, he asked, “What do you want with me? Why have you brought me here?”

“You are here because I wish to help you.”

Help was the last thing Sam expected from a Dragon. “Why is that? We’ve never even met before today.”

“My reasons are my own. As Jacqueline informed you, we have a mutual interest in the affairs of Genomics Corporation.”

Unless the creature could read his mind, denial seemed the safest course. “I have no interest in Genomics.”

“You had a decker inquiring into its affairs and personnel.”

“What is that to you?” Sam asked with a brashness he really didn’t feel. “Are you a cop? Are you going to charge me with data theft or something?”

“So belligerent.” The Dragon’s expression remained placid. If that fixed, toothy smile could be called placid. Sam felt its disdainful tolerance. “A. A. Wilson, an employee of Genomics, seems to be someone who interests you particularly.”

“So?”

“Mr. Verner, you are not a child of your kind. Leave off the games. Normally, I would take your prying less than well, but your poking about has alerted me to an injustice against me and mine.

“Doctor Wilson has been making unauthorized use of Genomics resources and personnel in a project of his own. Though such initiative is sometimes admirable, he has not had the good judgement to confide his successes to me. As his benefactor, I have supported him, symbolically fed and clothed hint, and now he shows his gratitude by gifting another with the fruits of his labors. You are familiar with Mister Drake?”