At the Queen_s command

"Yes, that was a test. Love to know a man's temperament." The Prince gathered up the bay's reins. "Come along. You'll have a packet for me and I'll need my spectacles."

The Prince led him past the eastern wing and handed the reins to a stable boy. The Prince washed his hands in a drinking trough, then they entered the manor through a door facing the trail. They passed through an interior door into a massive room that occupied most of that wing's ground floor.

The Prince crossed to a large desk set against the interior wall. Owen waited in the doorway. Countless shelves filled the space, lining the walls and segmenting the room. Books filled some shelves, but others held jars in which dead specimens drifted in viscous suspensions. Frogs and fish he could easily recognize, but other things were beyond his ken. A live raven cawed from a cage opposite the desk. Posted on the top shelves, or hung from the ceiling, preserved and mounted alien animals stared at Owen with glassy eyes. The largest of them occupied displays in the corners, save for a huge bear reared up-claws and fangs clearly visible-beside the Prince's desk.

Vladimir removed his hat and hung it over the bear's muzzle. He waved Owen into the room. "The packet, Captain?"

Owen started, then removed the orders from inside his jacket and handed them over.

The Prince smiled as he unlaced the leather wrapping. "Feel free to explore. You may find, here in my little museum, that some of your work has already been done."

Chapter Three

April 27, 1763

Prince Haven

Temperance Bay, Mystria

O wen cautiously approached the work table at the room's heart. Several bound volumes lay open. Pressed and dried flowers had been affixed to the pages of one, with notes penned in an even, feminine hand. They described the flower in every detail, including its preferred habitat and range, as well as its known and suspected uses.

Other books displayed well-drawn images of birds and animals. The writing recorded many of the same details as in the flower book, but in a much bolder hand. Owen suspected that to be the Prince's work. The animal accounts also included hunters' anecdotes. Some entries had numbers beside them which, Owen quickly figured out, referred to specimens in jars.

The pages crackled as Owen turned them. The rough paper rasped across his fingertips. Many of the creatures strongly resembled those back in Norisle, often only differing in color or size. But some other creatures… Can such things exist?

He looked up. An ivory skull weighed down a stack of papers: clearly feline and much larger than any wild cat he'd ever seen. The curved fangs were nearly a handspan in length. He traced a finger along the inside edge and almost cut himself on the serrated surface. The teeth had been designed for slicing flesh and sinew.

The Prince glanced over his shoulder and chuckled. "That's a small one. The adult is over there." The Prince pointed toward the corner of the room, hidden behind a tall clutter of shelves. "They've coded this message. I will be a minute. Go take a look."

Owen nodded as the Prince sat at his desk. The soldier squeezed into the labyrinth of shelves, careful not to upset anything. His shoulders brushed books on both sides. Twisting around to the right, he turned a blind corner, then gasped. His left hand came up to fend off his attacker as his right hand fell to where he should have been wearing a pistol.

Instead of the skull he'd been expecting to find, he'd come face to face with a fully mounted and articulated cat of enormous proportions. A few dark spots haphazardly dappled the short, tawny fur along its spine. Tufted ears flattened back against its skull. Its snarl revealed the saber teeth ready to drive deep into prey. Clawed paws reached for him, ready to hook and hold. From its nose to the tip of its stubby tail the creature had to have been at least eight feet long and would've been about five feet at the shoulder.

The glassiness of the creature's dark eyes and its rigidity left no doubt that it was dead, but its lifelike pose made it a creature of nightmares. Owen peered closely at it, both admiring its size and looking for some sign of what had killed it. The creature appeared to be in full health and Owen found no obvious wounds.

The Prince appeared, smiling. "Bravo, Captain Strake. You didn't scream. That was not true of Colonel Langford."

"What is it?" Owen brushed a hand along its back, feeling the fur. "I've been to zoological gardens, but never…"

Prince Vlad stroked the creature's other flank. "It has many names. Some call it a lion or a tiger. It doesn't have enough spots to be leopard. I prefer sabertooth cat. Many Mystrians call it a jeopard. I believe it's a play on the words leopard and jeopardy. It's rather accurate so I may give in and adopt it."