Chapter Two

The room was made entirely of metal, beaten and polished impossibly flat and smooth but then left long enough for the surfaces to dull. Sitting quietly on the floor, he could not hear any voices or sounds of movement and the place had no smell. There was light enough to see clearly, although he could see no candles or torches, but he could not find a door.

He was warm enough and no longer in any pain. The aches that he'd woken with had long since faded and he was not surprised to find that his knife had been taken while he'd slept.

The quiet confines of the strange metal box had begun to prey on his thoughts. It did not look like either the Gates of Heaven or the Pits of Hell, but he began to wonder if he might have actually died. He clutched at his limbs, suddenly fearful that he might have become some sort of spirit or shade left to walk the Earth for all eternity, but he found that they still felt solid enough.

There was a sudden strange noise behind him, like a small gust of wind over an unnatural humming sound. He leaped to his feet and turned to see a hole suddenly appear in the metal wall where none had been before, large and square like a doorway. The man that stood in that doorway, preventing any escape, was the same one that had released the blue fire upon him.

He could see no way past, as the man slowly and steadily advanced into the room. Scrambling backwards, he collided painfully with another hard metal wall.

"Please, sir! I didn' do nuthin! I didn' see nuthin!"

The man stopped in front of him and stared down silently for what seemed to be a very long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was stern, but not angry.

"I find that difficult to believe. Quick boy like you."

He then took a step backwards and began to pace back and forth in the small space in front of the doorway. He wasn't leaving enough space to slip past and escape, but if he wished to talk, maybe he would eventually lower his guard.

"Quick?"

The pacing stopped and the man turned to look at him again. "I've seen that you are quick on your feet and you are certainly quick with a knife."

He couldn't stifle a flare of resentment. "Got no knife now. You took it!"

"For the time being. You won't need it here." The man stepped even closer this time, so that they were almost nose to nose. "Do you have a name?"

The question stung, although he wasn't sure why. Of course, he had a name. Maybe he hadn't heard it spoken for a year or more, but he surely had a name and he blurted it out defiantly.

"Michael."

The man's face became slightly amused, although he did not actually smile. "Do you have a second name?"

Michael almost scoffed. More than one name? That was for people who had family or a trade or a place that they came from, something to which they belonged. He had none of these, but the question seemed to be a test and he was determined to not fail, so he plucked a name from recent memory.

"Shakespeare."

The man did smile briefly then, but hid it quickly.

"Michael Shakespeare, I am pleased to make your acquaintance." He held out a hand for shaking. "I am Time Master Druce."

Michael eyed the extended hand, but did not take it. He wanted to gain room to escape, not to come any closer.

"Time Master? Master of... You're what? You're the keeper of time? Of the hours?"

The man outright laughed. "I suppose you could say that. I'm one such keeper and my name is Druce."

"You got a second name?"

"None that you need to know right now."

So asking for his second name had been a trick. Michael hated being outwitted and his anger momentarily overshadowed his fear. He had nothing to strike out with, but he felt his fists clench at his sides.

Druce also noticed and the small smile returned to the man's face. "Yes, Michael, it was a mistake to surrender your name so easily, but don't worry. It won't be your name for much longer."

That sounded very bad indeed. His back was so tightly pressed against the wall that he could not move any further away, but he bent one knee, placing the foot against the wall behind. He crouched slightly and bent his head down, as if cowering in fear, but he kept his eyes fixed on Druce.

The man began to pace again and seemed to be enjoying his explanation. "Knowing your name can give an enemy power over you. You can't even imagine the damage I could inflict on you, knowing your true name."

Druce only looked away for the briefest moment, but it was enough. Michael instantly pushed off the wall, darting past him and out through the doorway, ignoring the angry bellow that followed.

On the other side of the doorway was some kind of tunnel, also made of metal. One direction along this tunnel seemed much like the other and he spared not even a moment for thought before sprinting to his left.

Echoing steps followed in his wake, as he clattered down a staircase, and he heard the man shout, "Gabriel!"

So Druce wasn't alone. There was someone else here, even if he couldn't see them. He had no way of knowing where this new threat would come from but he knew where Druce was and he could guess the way in which Druce would attack him.

There was a small gap under the stairs which Michael quickly and quietly slipped into and watched as Druce stepped off the bottom stair. There, attached to his belt, was – something. It was black and had a strange shape, but Michael had some idea what it was. He'd had only glimpsed it in the dark, but it had to be the source of the blue fire.

He launched himself from under the stairs before Druce could fully turn and grabbed the thing from his belt as he ran past. His momentum made him slide into a corner at the base of the stairs, but he managed to turn and point the strange black object up at Druce.

It felt strange in his hand and he saw the blue fire suddenly ignite. Instinctively knowing that the fire should not be facing towards him, he flipped the thing in hands so it was pointed at Druce.

"Stay back! And tell Gabriel too."

Druce stood with his hands slightly raised, palms open and facing forward. He took a step backwards, but he was smiling again.

"Quick and clever and clearly not afraid to take a chance. You have quite some potential, Michael Shakespeare."

Strangely, he felt trapped again. He had control of the blue fire, but Druce was unafraid. He could run, but he didn't know the way out of the metal tunnels and he still didn't know where Druce's ally, Gabriel, might be.

But it was becoming ever more clear that Druce liked to talk and talking now might be his only way to escape.

"What do you want, Master Druce?"

"Perhaps I want your service, Master Shakespeare."

Michael felt his head tilt in confusion. Why would a man with Druce's powers need the service of a common cutpurse?

"How would you like to never be hungry again? You could have a warm bed to sleep safely in every night."

"And for this you'd want me to serve you?"

Michael could now imagine what such service would be and it had naught to do with thievery. Almost without realising, he raised the blue fire source higher, but Druce merely lifted his eyebrows in response.

"Not serve me personally, no, but you would swear your allegiance to the higher authority that I also serve. In time, you could also become a Time Master."

Now he was confused again. This sounded like he was being asked to declared his allegiance to Druce's lord or his king?

"What would I have to do?"

"You would have to give up all that you are now. Michael Shakespeare would be no more. You would have a new name and a new life. Oh," he held out his hand, "and you'd have to give my gun back to me."

Michael felt his chest tighten, as he finally realised the true nature of the bargain. At the theatre, he had seen them perform stories about witchcraft and men selling their souls to the Devil. The words they used to work a magical incantation or strike a Devil's Bargain were often strange and it had seemed that they had to get the words right or the magic might somehow be overturned. Druce wanted his very soul in service to this "higher authority". If he refused, surely they would kill him.

He had to keep talking. Keep talking and maybe find a way to escape.

"So, you say I must forsake my name and swear my soul and service to your masters. And, if I do, then you will teach me your powers?"

Druce's outstretched hand fell and his eyebrows rose again. "How very Faustian. First Shakespeare and now Marlowe. For an ignorant guttersnipe, you're surprisingly well acquainted with the literary greats of your era."

Druce was clearly close to laughing again and Michael didn't understand his strange speech. The man was taunting him, if Druce was even a man at all and Michael now had doubts about that. But even if Druce was the Devil himself, Michael would not be his plaything.

"Tell me plainly what oath I must swear!"

"Very well." Druce once again stretched out his hand, as he proposed the oath. "If you, Michael Shakespeare, will give up your name and take another at my suggestion, if you will apply yourself to learn everything that myself and other Time Masters will teach you and if you will swear to serve the Council of Time Masters faithfully for the rest of your life, then I swear to you that you will have powers beyond your wildest dreams, you will see the rise and fall of empires and you will become part of the Destiny of the Universe itself."

It sounded like a Devil's Bargain indeed and such deals were meant to be inescapable. But calling himself "Shakespeare" had been a lie. He had never had any other name but Michael and maybe if Druce used a false name in his incantation, the spell would fail. It was the very smallest morsel of hope, but it was all he had.

He wasn't prepared to die here and now at this devil's hand. He would live and learn to outwit him and break free of this deal.

He reached out and grasped the man's hand with a firm grip. Druce gave their clasped hands one brisk shake and then released him.

The Devil's bargain had been struck, but it wouldn't count because his name wasn't Shakespeare.

It would all be fine. He would be fine. He would find a way out of this.

Still staring at Druce, he nodded once, firmly and decisively, and only then did he place the blue fire source into the man's still outstretched hand.

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