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“I know who you are,” he said. “An out-of-towner. Also the last person seen with Finch
before he died.”
“I do have that distinction. And you’re the local technomancer. Can’t say I ever saw the
appeal of this stuff, but then, that’s why I’m not a silicon mage.”
“Silicon?” Dalton said. “Please. I’ve got nothing but diamond processors here. They run
faster without over-heating.”
“I can’t tell you how fascinating that is,” Marla said. “But we’ve got better things to talk
about.”
“True,” he said. “Like why you killed Finch, and what you did with the Cornerstone.”
“How did someone as stupid as you get into a position of power?” Marla said,
genuinely astonished. Beside her, B winced.
“Hey, B!” Rondeau said. “Come here! They’ve got the Area 51 arcade game! Let’s
shoot some aliens!”
“Go on,” Marla said. “Have fun.”
B muttered something gratefully and went to join Rondeau.
Dalton leaned forward. “I don’t think you understand who you’re dealing with. It’s my
job to find out what happened to Finch, and to mete out punishment.”
“Listen, diamond-boy, I didn’t kill Finch. We made an arrangement. He was going to do
me a favor, and I was going to do him a favor. Before we could do anything, though, we
got ambushed by a lunatic named Mutex and his amazing dancing killing frogs. He’s
the one who killed Papa Bear and stole the Cornerstone.”
Dalton tapped a few keys on one of the keyboards in front of him. “Oh-kay,” he said
after a moment. “You’re on the level.”
Marla glanced around. “I don’t sense a truth-circle.”
“What, with chalk and burning herbs?” Dalton snorted. “Please. This room is wired
with sensors so delicate they’d make a CIA operative weep with envy, and I’ve
developed a system that actually works as a lie detector, not like that polygraph bullshit
that only really pegs stress. I know you’re telling the truth. But I’m not happy to hear it.
Mutex? I thought he was long gone. He tried to get a meeting with me, and I let one of
my mirrors talk to him. It wasn’t—”
“Mirrors?” Marla said, thinking of enchanted looking-glasses.
He gestured toward the door, where the henchmen still stood. “Them. My mirrorselves.”