"Well, now, what the hell didja do that for?" said Liam. "And how in blazes

didja know I had a wife an' kids?"

"Liam, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, havin' a drink or two or three, takin' in the atmosphere—"

"Get out of here right now!" said Wyrdrune. "Get back to the cab at once!"

"Well, is that the way it is, now?" Liam said. "A. fine thing. You can go

sneakin' into this fine party, and I have to be sittin' in the bloody cab all

night, without even a drink to keep me warm? And here I was nice enough to

stick

around an' give you a ride back—after you went an' burgled the place too."

"Liam, you idiot, don't you realize that you're in danger here?"

"No, maybe you'd better explain it to him,'" Kira said wryly.

"Yes, maybe you'd better explain it to me," Liam said, leaning on one of the

stone gargoyles. It swiveled down suddenly and dumped him on the floor as the

back wall of the fireplace opened inward with a low, scraping sound "What in

bloody hell?" he said.

"A secret passage!" Kira said.

"No wonder we couldn't find a way down to the lower levels," Wyrdrune said.

"The

entrances must all be camouflaged like this. Come on."

He ducked down under the mantelpiece and stepped over the hearth, batting at

his

clothing as the sparks shot up. Kira followed him, bending down and lightly

hopping over the blaze. Once on the other side, Wyrdrune felt around on the

wall, and his fingers found the lever that closed the secret door. He pulled

it

down, and the door slid to once again, leaving them in darkness. Kira slipped

off her leather glove, and the glow coming from her runestone seemed much

brighter now, illuminating the secret passage with a soft blue light.

"Now we're getting somewhere," she said as Wyrdrune stood there furiously

slapping at his smoldering coat. "Come on, put yourself out and let's get

going."

Liam got back up to his feet and stared at the fireplace. The door had

closed,

and there was no sign of Wyrdrune and Kira. The gargoyle had pivoted back up

again. He frowned and pulled it down once more. It swiveled, and with a

scraping

sound the back of the fireplace opened inward once again.

"Faith, an' you're gonna regret this, Liam McMurphy," he said to himself as

he

stopped down low and, shielding his face, stepped over the flaming hearth.

A woman standing by the bar poked her companion in the side with her elbow

and

slurred, "George..."

George turned around and fixed her with a bleary stare. "Yes, darling?"