Darkness consumed her.

It was almost like being in a peaceful sleep, really, except the immense pain from her broken arm penetrated her thoughts and was barking like a pack of hounds. She mentally sighed. She had thought that she would get used to the pain by now, but slowly it was getting worse.

Suddenly she felt her head being forced upwards. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t—tried to listen for anything but couldn’t—tried to move but couldn’t. Fingers pried open her mouth and she felt a steaming hot liquid being poured in. She coughed and tried to spit it out but more was forced down her throat. It was foul and burned her throat and stomach. An overwhelming sense of panic came; were they poisoning her?

Then she felt warm, as if someone had wrapped her in a blanket. The pain in her arm was receding, fading away. She also couldn’t think, and it wasn’t long before she drifted back into darkness.

~*~*~

It had been almost a day since she had been captured when Téa finally woke up. They were still in the forest and the sun was low in the western horizon, meaning it was evening. Téa looked around and saw what she counted to be about twelve sleeping on the ground around her, lucky number thirteen leaning against a tree on the other side of the camp, smirking at her. It was Russell.

In an instinct she tried to grab for her knife which was no longer in her belt, but she couldn’t even move her arms at all, since they were tied around a tree behind her. She suddenly realized that her left arm was completely healed. She looked at it in shock and tried to figure out how it was possible. She heard Russell chuckle,

“I know. We could make a killing in the health market.”

She didn’t find this funny and glared at him. He looked her over.

“I must say,” he said to her, “you certainly do look like your sister.”

She could feel her face going red with anger, “If you have laid one finger on my sister, I will end you.”

“You’re certainly in the position to talk, aren’t you? Your sister is alive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he seemed to take much pleasure in adding, “For now.”

He walked over to her and stood uncomfortably close.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious as to why you aren’t dead by now?”

“I’m thinking it has to do with the fact that you’re a complete imbecile.”

“Quite a mouth, for a woman,” he observed, then added after a pause, “and a very pretty woman at that.”

He stroked her cheek. She flinched at his touch and kicked him as hard as she could, only to find her own knife against her throat.

“Be careful,” he cautioned, “I advise you to at least attempt to be polite, if that is at all possible.” He put her knife back in his belt and turned away. She noticed another man standing nearby with a not so happy look on his face. He seemed not much older that her, maybe 25? She then realized that he was one of the men who had been there the night she took the documents. Russell turned to him and barked,

“Victor, wake the others and tell them to pack up. We leave in twenty minutes.”

Victor went around shaking and sometimes kicking the men awake and telling them of Russell’s instructions. Téa decided to “help” by kicking dirt on the men closest to her. They gave her dirty looks but did nothing about the rude wake up call. Russell must have told them not to touch her, so she took the pleasure to kick more dirt on them.

“Perhaps we should take the chance when Russell isn’t looking and cut her feet off,” one of the men said to the others as the brushed himself off.

“Is that supposed to frighten me?” Téa kicked more dirt on the man’s shoes.

“I’m dead serious, wench.”

“Well, maybe you should untie me and we can settle the whole matter then?”

The man laughed, “I would break you in half!”

“You flatter yourself, Sir…?”

“Haben.”

She rolled her eyes, “Just so you know, Haben, you’re the first on my list.”

The men looked like they were all going to laugh this time, but Russell yelled at them,

“WHY IS NO ONE WORKING!?”

They quickly set off to work. Téa could feel her binds being cut from behind her and then a blade point at her back.

“Any sudden movements and I will kill you, do you understand?” It was Victor. Téa turned her head slowly to look at him.

“You’re that fast, huh?”

“Trained at the best school of swordplay and first in my class,” Victor said with a hint of pride.

“You don’t say? That’s just lovely.”

“Watch your mouth and walk over to that horse,” Victor led her over to a brown mare and told her to get on the horse. He took the reins away to avoid any chance of escape and bound her hands in front of her. She looked down at him,

“You don’t strike me as the type that would associate with men like Russell.”

“I need the money. Now be quiet.”

She ignored the second half of the sentence, “Why do you need the money?”

He looked up at her with irritation, “My father died with a huge debt from gambling and I need to pay them off. Would you like to know of how my mother died as well?”

Téa paused with an awkward silence.

“I’m sorry. My parents are dead as well.”

“Yes, I heard. If it’s any comfort the huntsman is dead because of it.”

“It won’t bring them back to life, will it? And why are you comforting me, anyway?”

He started tying her boots to the saddle. To prevent her from jumping off, she guessed. He spoke as he worked,

“They had done nothing to deserve it.”

“And I did?”

“You stole from us.”

“Documents that would lead to an invasion of the palace in Frell? Oh yes, shame on me.”

He stopped and looked up at her, “Is it your intention to better your situation by using sarcasm? Because it isn’t working, now be quiet.” He went back to work.

She ignored him again, “Do you know anything of my sister?”

“Your sister is fine. She gets three meals a day and no one bothers her.”

“Has anyone hurt her?”

He stood up and looked at her again, “If I tell you will you stop talking?”

She nodded.

“She received a few bruises during her first interrogation, but since then everyone has been ordered not to touch her.”

“You mean Russell has a boss?”

He gave her a look.

“Right, closing my mouth now.”

Russell walked over, “Unless I am mistaken Victor I thought I heard you talking to our prisoner.”

“S-sorry, sir. Won’t happen again, sir.”

“See that it doesn’t. A man of your…impressionable nature might believe any lie she might tell you,” He looked up at Téa, “If you say one more word I’ll remove your tongue with your own knife.”

“Fine by me. It’s impossible to have intelligent conversation around here anyway.”

He grabbed her arm and gave it a small but deep cut. She immediately pulled away and glared at him. Victor took out a handkerchief and pressed it against her wound.

“That wasn’t necessary, sir.”

“If she talks again she’ll get worse. Now put that rag away!”

Victor obeyed and walked off to finish cleaning up camp. The other men were busy as well getting their horses ready. Téa sat there impatiently, wondering how she was going to get out of this one. Now more than ever she wanted to see Hannah, to see if she was indeed alright as Victor had said. She watched her arm bleed and tried pressing it against her stomach to staunch the flow. She suddenly felt someone ripping off a piece of her skirt and saw that it was Victor. He tied the cloth around her cut,

“If Russell asks say that you did it.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and left before anyone would see him. She watched him go and wondered if he could help her. Victor seemed way out of place here among such idiots, perhaps she could persuade him to help her and her sister escape.

At last everyone mounted their horses. The man who had captured her earlier, Earl, took hold of her horse’s reins and followed the others as they galloped off.

~*~*~

“Y-your highness, perhaps we should take a break.”

Namian put a hand on the back of the man, who was bent over panting.

“Gerik, we’ve only been fencing for ten minutes.” He smiled and helped him over to a seat next to the wall. Poor Gerik had been his fencing instructor for ten years, and Namian knew it would be time to let the old man retire, but he knew the thought of being let go would break his heart.

The prince sat down next to his teacher and wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Gerik, shouldn’t you be retired by now? I’m sure your wife would be very happy if you were around more.”

Gerik looked up, “Oh no, your highness. Mary would only make me work harder than I work here. We have a very large garden.”

Namian laughed and stood up to retrieve his sword. He began to fence with an imaginary partner—lunging, jumping back, and lunging again. He remembered his younger days when he would be exhausted after only five minutes, and how Gerik would only push him harder. He had learned all the techniques of formal fencing (for duels between nobles), but on the insistence of his father he also became an expert in—for lack of a better word—informal fencing (for the rest of the world who didn’t always fight fair). He lunged at his invisible attacker again.

“Perfect form, well done,” said a voice from the door. Namian didn’t bother to stop his antics.

“Thank you, father.”

King Charmont walked over to Gerik, who was struggling to stand and bow, and pushed him gently back into his seat.

“That’s not necessary, Gerik. I would like a sword, however.”

“By the door, your highness.”

Charmont picked a long sword, took off his shirt, and walked to face his son, who stopped fencing.

“Unseen men don’t fight back; perhaps someone with actual mass would help?”

Namian made a face, “Ha ha,” and began to fight his own father.

Anyone who would have walked into the room just then would have thought the two men were trying to kill each other, but only Gerik would have seen that they were just going through every stance and position in the book, one by one.

“Father, I’ve been thinking,” Namian said coolly as he sidestepped a strike and swung his sword around.

“What about?”

“Do you remember our discussion the night before I…um…left?”

“Not distinctly. What are you getting at?” He dodged a swipe and spun around.

“Well, I’ve been thinking that a ball may not be such a bad idea.”

Namian knocked the sword out of the King’s hand with ease, who stood there and stared at his son with confusion,

“A ball? As in—“

“Yes.”

“May I ask why the change of heart?”

Namian twirled his sword expertly, “Well, after all that I’ve been through, I was thinking that it might be time that I find myself a wife.”

“You do know that you don’t have to.”

“I know. I think it would be for the best.”

The King sighed, “Very well. I’ll tell your mother and we’ll start preparations. Are you very sure?”

“Yes.”

The king left the room and Namian began sword fighting with himself again.

Before the idea of having a ball to find a wife had disgusted him. It still did, actually. His parents were very understanding on this topic, since they were forced on his father in the first place. But now it was the only way he could think of to find Téa.

He had sent messengers to all the towns and no one had seen a girl with red hair, and he could think of no other way. Everyone, even the gypsies, would know of a ball to find a prince a wife, and he was hoping that Téa would hear of it and come to see him. If she didn’t show up, then he would just have to find a way out of having to choose a wife.

Téa felt a cup of water thrown in her face, and instinctively kneed the face responsible.

“Ow!”

“I told you not to stand too close to her.”

Téa sat up straight and shook her head of any sleep. She smiled at the black eye she had given one of the men and said sweetly, “Good morning.”

The man glared at her, still holding his wounded eye, “You sack of filth!” She could see Victor behind him, trying not to laugh. He helped her get to her feet and cut the rope that bound her to the tree.

“Good morning, Victor. I trust you slept well?”

“No better than he will tonight,” he replied, referring to Black eye, who was still doubled over in pain. He took her back to her horse, as had been the usual routine for the last three days, and began securing her to her saddle.

“You know, I’m getting just a little tired of you making those dimwits wake me up every morning. Can’t you just do it yourself?”

“And have Russell castrate me? No thanks.”

She sighed and began to eat a small chunk of bread that was her breakfast. She had seen nothing but forest for three long days; not even a town or any hint of a person nearby. Of course this is exactly what the troupe wanted, but she kept a lookout nonetheless.

By now it was something like a war between her and all of Russell’s men (minus Victor, of course). They all tried to find ways to taunt her or make her angry, but she would push right back, each time receiving a cut on the arm from the Captain. Victor remained neutral, as always, with the exception of treating her cuts.

He finished tying her boots to the saddle and walked off to finish cleaning up camp. Téa sat impatiently, drumming her nails on the hard surface and blowing strands of her dark brown hair away from her face. She was no stranger to going days without bath, but she always tied her hair back in such situations. She had never been allowed to do so since they caught her, and all of it was now a tangled mess.

Russell trotted up next to her and looked at her,

“Our journey ends today.”

She just looked at him, so he continued,

“You keep your mouth shut when we enter the caves. Do so and you will share the same cell as your sister.”

Her attention was immediately caught and she nodded.

That will definitely not be an easy feat; she thought and almost laughed to herself. Russell trotted away and she made note that her knife was no longer in his boot, wondering what had happened to it. Earl almost instantly came up beside her on his own horse and took her reins. They galloped off with the rest of the group.

~*~*~

“What happened?”

Bowen dismounted and Tania followed. Most of the gypsies had stopped their everyday jobs to listen; they were all interested in what had happened to the red haired girl and her companion. Kyros greeted Bowen with a firm handshake and a kiss on Tania’s cheek.

Bowen shook his head, “Far too much to explain here.”

“Master Hayden is now safely at home,” said Tania, more to benefit the eavesdroppers than anything else, “I cannot say the same of Téa.”

“What of ‘er?”

“We don’t know,” said Bowen, “she left her tribe only days after we returned her.”

The gypsies began to talk about what they would do. It was a little known fact that gypsies grew much attached to their “captives”, as they had with Téa and Namian.

“Perhaps we should send a search party,” someone suggested.

Kyros thought for a moment, “Not a bad idea, but let’s keep it at a few people. Say, two?”

Tania didn’t need to hear anymore, “I’ll go get the horses.”

~*~*~

Téa stared at her surroundings for a long time. She had expected a cave in a mountainside that had been fashioned into a crude room, but nothing like this. Where she was now was underground labyrinth of halls and rooms, as if she were in a normal castle, save for no windows and the fact that it was all one level. Torches lined every hall and each door was twenty feet away from the next. Another thing she marveled at was the people: there were hundreds of them in the first few halls alone. Most of them were men, all dressed in a battle suit of some kind and going about their business. But there were women and children as well, all ragged and destitute. It was like an underground city.

After they had tied up their horses (in a stable that was also a part of the underground metropolis), Russell had personally grabbed her wrist and was now tugging her through the passages, taking a turn here and there. She kept silent as instructed, but found it hard not to gasp occasionally. She couldn’t help it; she had never seen anything like it before.

They finally arrived at a long hallway with no doors except one facing them at the very end. Russell slowed his pace but didn’t look at her,

“You are not to speak until spoken to, understand?”

“What am I, twelve?”

They came to two guards who stood at either side of the door. One immediately put his hand on the knob and turned it. They shoved her through the doorframe and slammed it behind her. She tried the handle but could hear it being locked on the other side.

“I apologize for your forceful entry. Russell was always a bit on the dramatic side.”

Téa turned at the sound of the woman’s voice and looked at the room for the first time. There were candles everywhere, though it did little to alter the darkness of the room. Tables cluttered with bottles and vials lined the walls, and in the center of the room was a woman sitting in a heavily adorned chair. She was elegantly dressed in dark green and her blonde hair was gathered up onto her head, held in place by some kind of jewelry that resembled a crown.

“Who are you?”

The woman rose gracefully, “A question I am all to often asked. My people call me the Lady, but you may call me Rhiannon.”

Téa eyed her with skepticism. Her words were friendly there was nothing of the same in her eyes.

“Your people?”

“Yes, I am Queen over this city.”

Téa laughed, she couldn’t help it.

“You find something amusing?”

“I find you amusing, actually. If you’re really a queen then I’ve never heard of you.”

Rhiannon smirked, “I am not surprised. You and Lady Hannah are the only outsiders who know about this place. But I can assure you that I most certainly am Queen.”

Téa rolled her eyes, “Looks more like an advanced game of playing House.”

“You don’t like me, I can tell.”

“Taking me and my sister prisoner doesn’t exactly put you on my closest friends list.”

The Queen laughed and Téa just stared at her. She finished her bout and took a deep breath, “You must excuse me, but I rather enjoy your wit. I must say I’m rather surprised you haven’t asked me any more questions about my city. Most of my prisoners are full of them.”

“All I want is my sister and to get out of here.”

You will see your sister soon enough, but as for the latter I’m afraid I cannot grant you. You see, you’re very important to our mission at the moment.”

“Mission?”

“My blueprints of King Jerrold’s castle, you had them last. Yes?”

“Yes, and now the bottom of a river has them.”

“Mm, I’m aware of that. It did put quite a setback in our plans.”

“Glad to be of service.”

“Don’t think you’re so smart. For every folly there is always a backup plan and you just happen to be it.”

Caught off guard, Téa started, “What?”

“It’s my understanding that you are rather close to Prince Namian of Kyrria. Am I correct?”

She nearly laughed, “Prince Namian also happens to be a liar. I didn’t know who he was until the last day we were together. He and I would have nothing to do with each other—“

“But you kissed him, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“You kissed him.”

“How did you know about that?”

The Queen chuckled, “You think you were the only one to have your future told by a gnome? I have three in my employ.”

Téa stumbled over her words, “Well—for the record he kissed me.”

Rhiannon began to circle her, mocking her, “Even better! He has feelings for you; my gnomes could sense it; they could even sense you enjoying it as well. And what girl wouldn’t? He’s handsome, just like his father, rich, and was willing to go to the ends of the earth for you. Sometimes I wondered if you had lost your mind, sending him away like that. But now I know: you have a tremendous pride, and I do too. That’s why we’ll work perfectly together!”

Téa let her words sink in. She was right. And for once she couldn’t think of anything to say, so Rhiannon continued,

“When I was a young girl I lived in a small village just outside Frell. My father was a poor apothecary with barely enough money to feed himself; let alone me. I often helped him with his potions and made up my own in my spare time—most often medicines because he was ill frequently. Then one day a messenger came to town proclaiming that Prince Charmont was convening three masked balls to find himself a wife. My father was ecstatic and was so sure that I would be picked that he immediately scrambled together every KJ he could find to buy me a ball gown. I begged him not to, it was our food money after all, but he wouldn’t listen.

The night of the first ball he paid for the most lavish carriage he could find and told me not to tell anyone of my social status. I went up to where Prince Charmont stood, talked with him and he asked me to dance. I used every charm I knew and he accepted every one of them. He was so kind to me too, talking with me as if I were a friend; it was hard not to reveal that I was just the daughter of a poor apothecary. The other women were criticizing me, saying that there was no point in being there as long as I kept coming. It was the most wonderful night of my life.”

Téa stood where she was and didn’t interrupt, though she knew how this story was going to end. Everyone knew the story.

“The second ball he asked me to dance again. We talked during the dance and I even made him laugh! When the dance was over I saw him ask another girl to dance. I wasn’t worried; she was wearing a mask after all. I kept thinking of how I would be picked, my father would be healthy again, and my life would be perfect. Then I actually watched them dance. I saw how he looked at her, how he talked with her, how he smiled at her. Everyone could tell that he was falling in love with her by the minute.”

Rhiannon’s face was full of anger and growing with hate by the minute.

“By the night of the third ball he didn’t even look at me. He spent nearly all of that night with her, even taking her out to the garden. I followed them and watched from the doorway. She was still wearing her mask, and they talked endlessly. I knew that it was all pointless and decided to go home, only to find that my father had died in his sleep. The next day I packed all the potions I could find and left the village, forever hating the family that had stolen the last hours that I could have spent with him.

“I spent my days searching for anyone who could teach me to use a sword. Along the way I met a man a little older than me who was already an expert. He taught me all he knew and we traveled together. We both shared the same hate for the royal family since he and his wife had lost entire crops and King Jerrold had done nothing to help him. It wasn’t long after that Russell’s wife died of starvation.”

Téa interrupted, “Pardon my saying so but I highly doubt that it was the King’s fault.”

“Oh, but it was. Russell sought an audience with the king several times, but always had been turned away. It wasn’t even until he became captain of the guard that the two exchanged words.”

“So all of this is a plan to get to Charmont? Where did all of these people come from, anyway?”

Rhiannon smirked again, her anger subsiding, “Most of them are homeless vagrants I found during my journeys. I had always been a very good speaker,” she added with pride, “and I convinced them all to become my followers. We built this underground palace and since then I have been their Queen. And I will not only kill Charmont and his trollop of a wife, but I will also take Kyrria.”

“Um, I’m sorry to break it to you, but that was tried about seventeen years ago, I don’t think Charmont will let it happen again.”

“That is where you come in, my dear. You will get me a new set of blueprints to King Charmont’s castle. And because Prince Namian is so fond of you, you should have no trouble getting in.”

“What makes you think I’ll do that?”

“Because I’ll kill your sister if you don’t.”

Téa swallowed hard, grabbed a vial from a nearby table and broke the end off, holding it close to Rhiannon’s throat. She kept a collective cool while Téa spoke angrily, “And all this because you didn’t have your way twenty years ago? Great logic, your highness, but you’re not going to hurt anyone again, especially my sister!”

The Queen folded her arms, “Not only that. I’ve always been quite power hungry, or was that not obvious enough to you?” She laughed and clapped her hands, an evil little smile on her face. The door behind Téa immediately opened and in stepped Russell with another man. They grabbed the broken vial out of her hand before she could do anything and held her arms behind her.

“Take the Lady Téa to the Negotiations Room,” she instructed them, “I’m sure the feel of a whip against her back will do more than persuade her to join our cause,” she looked at Téa and grinned, “and don’t think I’ll just give you some healing potion afterwards. Perhaps if you had been more polite, but now-” she shook her head in a contemptuous way. They pulled her out of the room.

Coiva, a lossë.

Ely ista alassë,

Ely ista tevië,

Coiva, a wingil

an sí sen mahta ná lá vanwa

“Téa? Téa coiva. Coiva.”

Téa tried to wake up, she really did, but waking up would mean that she had been asleep, which she certainly wasn’t. It was something like the twentieth time the whip hit her back that she had passed out. And now she was lying on a cold and dirty stone floor with her back feeling like it was on fire. She could feel the warmth of her blood as it trickled down her sides. The voice spoke again, this time in Kyrrian,

“Arleta?”

“Don’t call me that,” she mumbled.

The voice laughed, “Thank the creator, she’s alive!”

She opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a rat gnawing on a bit of a bone, and she shuddered to think of what that had come from. Then she saw blue hair. That familiar beautiful dark blue hair and was instantly conscious.

“Hannah?” She bolted upright and felt the pain shoot up her back, like a thousand needles being shoved in, but she didn’t care. Her sister sat in front of her, smiling sadly. Téa threw her arms around her, kissing her cheek several times.

“I’m fine,” said Hannah, wrapping her hands around her shoulders so as not to hurt her. She finally let go and studied her at arm’s length.

“This is more than I can say of you.”

Téa finally took a moment to examine herself. The back of her dress had been ripped open, and what she could see of her back was nothing but dark red. Hannah dipped a blood soaked cloth back in a tray of water and pressed it against the wounds. Téa immediately flinched.

“I can’t stop the bleeding with you moving, Téa. It’s getting everywhere.”

“Did you check and see if there were any vampires in the next cell?” Téa suggested. Hannah smirked,

“Nope, there’s a very chatty guard just outside the wall who likes to eat meat in between meals, however.”

“I’m sure if I had a black eye that would be helpful.”

“Just stop moving so you can heal.”

“That’s hard to do when you keep pushing on me.”

“Try, Téa.”

She drew bare feet under her and rested her head on her knees. Their cell was only a little smaller than a room at an inn would be. It was completely made of stones with bits of hay scattered everywhere. Rats infested in the dark corners, chattering noisily with each other and a few of the brave would occasionally wander out into the light provided by the torches, only to quickly skitter back into the dark. The only door was large and wooden. There was only a key whole on their side, and a small opening at the bottom where food and water would be shoved through. The bucket at the side of the door she could only guess was a crude chamber pot. She glanced at the tray of bloody water that Hannah was dipping her rag in.

“Is that your drinking water?”

“Ours, actually. I’m sorry that I can’t let you have any but I think your backside is in worse need of it.”

“Aw, and here I thought it was wine.”

Hannah chuckled and continued wiping at her back. It stung intensely but Téa clamped her mouth shut. After a few minutes Hannah stopped and leaned back against the wall.

“It should stop now. Don’t touch your back or the wounds will reopen.”

Téa nodded and wrapped her arms even tighter around her legs. The cell was freezing and the back of her dress was beyond repair. It was several minutes before she broke the silence,

“Hannah, did they tell you—I mean…about our parents…”

Her sister nodded, “Yes, I know. Russell came in and told me personally,” her hands formed fists and her face grew red, “I should have broken his neck.”

“Did they…do anything to you, Hannah?”

She shrugged, anger subsiding, “I haven’t seen anything but these walls for months. I daresay you have had it far worse than I have.”

“Months? I think I would have gone insane.”

“I think I would have too if they had not brought you in here. How did they capture you?”

“Trees don’t like me.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What about the blueprints? Did you get them to King Jerrold?”

“King Jerrold is dead.”

“What? How--?”

“Our high and mighty Queen of the underworld had too much time on her hands.”

Now Hannah was angry, “That evil, despicable—!”

“I did run into his grandson, however.”

~*~*~

“I cannot find this tribe you speak of, sire. There is no such record of even their existence.”

Namian did not even look up but kept his nose in a book, Ancient Cultures of the World. The elf waited patiently for a response. After a few moments the prince finally closed his book hard in frustration and placed it back on its shelf.

“What of the name I gave you?”

The elf pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and read aloud, “A birth of one Arleta, daughter of Aden was recorded in the Westovian archives in the year 3434 of the Second Age. Species: human. Country: Westova. Language: unknown. Ethnicity: unknown. Whereabouts: unknown. I am sorry sire, but this Arleta is nowhere to be found.”

Namian sighed, “Thank you, Armen, that is all I require of you.” He sat down at a desk and opened another book. Armen walked to the doorway, but turned,

“Sire?”

“Hm?”

“What of your mother the Queen? She is the court linguist, after all.”

“Neither my mother nor my father are to know of this, understood?”

Armen bowed, “Yes, sire,” and left.

Namian sighed again. His mother would have surely been able to contact Will and get this information for him, had he not known of a certain law he had found only a few days earlier:

Should any person, elf, giant, gnome, fairy, or other species be found or known as being in the company of a member of the royal family of Kyrria while said member had been declared missing, captured, or dead that being shall be henceforth known as the kidnapper. This is an offence punishable by death construed in the form of death by hanging, death by sword, or death by fire.

Now he definitely couldn’t tell his parents about Téa. All laws were irreversible, and she would be as good as dead if he mentioned her name to anyone. Armen was the only person he could trust simply because it was his job. Now without any idea of where Téa or the tribe was Namian felt the increasing pressure on his heart that something was terribly wrong. Even though his father had assured him that Russell was as good as dead, he knew that others knew of those documents. But he could not tell anyone of them without Téa’s name being revealed.

Though the balls were weeks away, the great hall was being decorated even as he sat in the library. He couldn’t even imagine what he would say if Téa never showed up before he had to pick a wife. What an embarrassment.

“You’ve been in here since this morning, Namian. It’s customary to come up for oxygen once in a while.”

Namian whirled around to see his godmother standing in the doorway.

“Am I needed somewhere, Mandy?

She shook her head, “No, love. Your mother’s asked about you, but I told her you needed some time to yourself.” She sauntered over to the table where he had laid out all of his maps and books, examining them and going them over with her fingers. She circled the table and stopped a few feet away from him. Though she was several feet shorter, she still gave off quite an authoritative air.

“That is why you are here, yes?”

“Yes.”

A pause.

“Namian, love, what have I taught you about lying?”

“I’m not—“

“Yes you are, and it’s best not to anger a fairy, even if I am your godmother.”

Namian exhaled, sitting in a chair and resting his head on his hand, “The sad thing is: that threat worked on me when I was ten and it works now.”

She grinned and sat next to him, “No, what’s sad is that it never worked on your mother.”

He looked at her for a moment, then laughed. She smiled pleasantly and pulled a map off of the table before he could stop her. She looked it over tentatively, saying the names out loud,

“Frell, Sheree, Bast, Bölate, and the Keli mountains. Looks like quite a journey.”

“It was,” Namian muttered, not even thinking about what he was saying.

“So this was where you had gone all those months?”

He jolted in his chair. Mandy smiled wryly placed the map back on the table, picking up another map, one of Westova.

“You have Master Will’s tribe marked, I see. Tell me, did they recognize you right away?”

“Mandy, I’d rather not talk about this now.”

“Oh, but we are going to talk about it, love. And we’re going to start with who you’re looking for.”

~*~*~

“That’s…very interesting.”

“What, you don’t believe me?”

Hannah stretched out her legs on the cold stone floor, “No, I do. I just can’t believe he kissed you.”

Téa threw her arms in the air, “Is everyone insane? Why is this such an important turn of events? Did you even hear about everything else we had been though?”

“Of course I was,” Hannah replied, giving her a knowing look, “but Téa, the heir to the throne of Kyrria kissed you. Not you kissing him, mind you, he kissed you. I would think that was of significance.”

“What does it matter anymore? He’s back in the comfort of his own castle, and we’re stuck in here. Probably until we die of old age or her royal pain in the neck thinks up a much more fun way to kill us.”

“You’re in a cheerful mood.”

“I’m sorry, I’m cold and those rats are starting to look really good right now. It’s a little hard to be civil.”

Hannah giggled, “Perhaps an escape plan would be a good idea right about now?”

Téa looked up, “Great! What’s your plan?”

“We dig a tunnel with our teeth.”

“Bad plan.”

“I never said I was the smart one in this family.”

After sitting around for a little while longer, Téa got on all fours and looked through the keyhole in the door. She could see straight through it to the wall on the other side.

“Where’s the guard?” she asked.

“He passes by every three hours. Another man comes by twice a day with food and water and the second time for the chamber pot.”

“Do you have a hairpin?”

“I did. It’s currently stuck in the keyhole.”

“Imíné!” Téa cursed. She stood up and looked around for anything. Hannah stood up as well.

“What kind of stones are these?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Téa walked up to a wall to examine more closely. She stood by the single torch in the room to get enough light. A few of the stones had specks in them that glittered in the torchlight. There were other types of rocks that Téa couldn’t identify…except for one.

“Plan coming?” Hannah asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Téa nodded, “look around the room and find a loose stone or something hard. We only have a little time before the guard comes by again.”

Here is the English translation of Hannah’s song:

“Awaken, o blossom

Thou hast known joy

Thou hast known hate

Awaken, o nymph

For your fight has not yet passed”

“This is mendstone,” Téa explained, her sister looking at her like she was nuts.

“Aaand?”

She rolled her eyes, “Do you remember how the men of the tribe used to remove stumps by making them explode? They would use grounded mendstone under the stump and light it.”

Hannah smiled a little, working it all out. But it quickly turned back into a frown, “But Téa, if we use the torch we’ll be incinerated, its way too much fire.”

“I know. These other stones have quartz in them, we can—”

“Strike them together! Like Daggers would show us when we were little.”

Téa nodded and set to work grinding the mendstone into powder, which wasn’t easy considering she had to use other rocks that broke more easily. Hannah watched through the keyhole for anyone who would be passing by. After a very long hour and a half, all that had come from Téa’s antics was a little pile of very small rocks that were nowhere near being grounded. She sighed and hung her head in frustration.

“Téa?”

“Yes?”

“What’s he like?”

“Who?”

“Prince Namian.”

She sighed even harder, “We’re not at the tribe, Hannah. I can’t talk with you and giggle like we did when we were girls. This isn’t the place.”

Sitting with her legs crossed, Hannah scooted over by her sister, “On the contrary, I think it’s the perfect time and place. I’ve seen nothing but these walls for months, had no one to talk to but a bunch of rats and the occasional guard, and nothing to eat but every kind of stale food you can imagine. I think you owe it to me.”

“It is my fault that you’re in here, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps some of the fault lies with you, but you can easily make it up to me in one sentence.” She grinned and sat in front of her older sister, waiting with the patience of a five year old. Sighing for about the umpteenth time, Téa sat down.

“Three words: stupid, arrogant, and an extravagant liar.”

The flame of curiosity went out, “Oh, come off it Téa!”

“What? You asked me what he was like and I told you.”

“He must have some good qualities, he kissed you didn’t he?”

“To shut me up most likely.”

“I doubt that, usually people just use death or torture as a threat to shut you up.”

“Ha ha.”

“What does he look like, then?”

Téa readjusted a bit, the cuts in her back suddenly giving her trouble again, “Well—um, despite his aura of annoyance he’s really—well—not all that unpleasant to look at.”

Her sister’s usual grin came back in full bloom. She slapped her leg and laughed, “Wow, quite the compliment for him! I haven’t heard you describe anyone like that since Harloe.”

On the mention of his name, Téa’s back muscles tensed and her pain nerves sprang to life.

“You’re bleeding again!” Her sister tore a section off her already shortening hem and reached over to wipe the blood, but she brushed her away.

“Don’t bother, it hurts too much. I don’t think I could sit still again.”

“They have to heal up now or they’ll get infected, Téa.”

“What’s the point? They’re just going to whip me again anyway.”

“Not if we escape first. And I can’t do it all myself while you bleed all over the floor,” then Hannah eyed her strangely, still holding the rag in mid-air. Téa could see her sister coming to a realization, “Téa, did something happen with Harloe?”

Silence.

“Téa?”

She winced, though it wasn’t the pain in her back that was making her do so, “Hannah, Harloe is—well…”

“Tell me!”

“Harloe’s on their side!” the words came rushing out, echoing in the little room.

“What?”

“Harloe told them where to find our parents. He’s the reason they’re dead.”

Tears began to gather in her sister’s eyes, she barely managed to rasp out one word, “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Hannah’s tears flowed freely now, falling on her back and gasping for air between sobs. Téa stroked her blue hair, though her own eyes remained dry.

~*~*~

“Namian! You know better than to lie to your parents!”

Frustrated, he put his head in his hands. After spending three hours telling his godmother everything that had happened, being ridiculed was the last thing he needed. Mandy put a hand on his shoulder,

“Granted, it was done protect the lady and that is an admirable thing, but a ball?”

“It was all I could think of. Not one town has seen a single hair of her and the tribe has vanished.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe the lady does not want to be found? From what you said she did sound upset with you.”

“That’s not the point, Mandy. My family is safe but I can’t stand knowing that she isn’t.”

Smiling sadly, she stroked his golden head and sat down next to him.

“Listen, love, this woman sounds like she can take care of herself, I wouldn’t worry so.”

He lifted his head and looked at her, “She would agree with you, but she overestimates how strong she really is. These people are dangerous, Mandy, and she’s only one person.”

The fairy thought for a moment, then stood, “The best I can do is ask some friends of mine to look out for her, but the rest is up to you. You can go ahead and have this ball but don’t expect me to help you get out of it when the lass doesn’t show.”

The prince smiled, then stood and hugged her, “Thank you Mandy.”

“You’re welcome, darlin’. But I do suggest you tell your father.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

~*~*~

“Are you done yet?”

“Siiidh, my sister, siiidh.”

It had taken a few more hours, but the little pile of mendstone was finally grounded enough to be usable. Carefully, Téa cupped the black powder in her hands and stood up. Bits of it began to sift through so she held her hands tighter together, trying not to lose any of the precious explosive.

“What now?” Hannah asked.

“We pour some of it in the keyhole, strike some sparks on it and pray to the creator I don’t blow my face off.”

“Should we test some of it?”

Téa nodded, “Good idea.” She walked slowly over to a corner on the far side of the room, the rats furiously skittering away. Dropping the black stuff into a little pile, she took a small pinch of it and placed it far away.

“Do you have the quartz?”

She felt two being dropped into her hands, and told Hannah to back away. Crouching down, she struck the rocks together over the tiny heap.

Nothing.

She struck them again, this time making a tiny spark that was snuffed out by the open air. Determined, she struck the rocks harder together.

FLASH! A brief blaze of fire went up and caught on to Téa’s skirt. In an instant, her sister threw the pan of bloody water on it, putting it out. For a moment there was silence, then chuckles.

“Whoa, that’s some powerful stuff.”

“Yes,” Hannah agreed, “Perhaps we should put a little less in the keyhole, then?”

“No complaints here,” Téa observed as she pinched an even smaller amount and walked towards the door.

“Carefully,” Hannah cautioned. Her sister crouched down until she was eye level with the keyhole, sifting as much of the mendstone in as she could.

A black cloud of the dust suddenly burst out as a foreign object pushed its way into the keyhole. Someone was opening the door.

“Get back!” Téa hissed as she pushed her sister up against the opposite wall. Though she spoke calmly, Hannah looked terrified,

“I-it’s probably one of the guards dropping off our meal for the night.”

Téa relaxed a little at the thought, but only for a moment as she saw that it wasn’t the food guard, but Russell and two other men. He smirked down at the two girls,

“Nice family reunion then?”

Téa glared at him, “What do you want?”

Still he smiled, “Have you considered her majesty’s offer?”

“Majesty?”

“Lady Rhiannon.”

“Oh, her. You actually expect me to help you?”

Hannah shot her a horrified look, and Téa could see what her mouth would not say.

Shut up you idiot!

Then she did something she knew she shouldn’t have: she actually considered.

Consider that woman’s insane plot?

Why not?

It was Harloe’s voice. What was he doing in there?

If it even worked, it would annihilate Kyrria.

But Hannah won’t die. You would rather help a country you have no allegiance to?

Téa looked at her sister, who seemed to be trying extremely hard to read her thoughts. How could she kill something so precious, so beautiful, and so undeserving of such a horrible fate?

Then a scene flashed in Téa’s mind. It was when she had been at the tribe with Namian, after they had danced together. She saw his blue eyes, the way he had looked at her. How close their faces had been to each other—

Then she saw him on the ground, surrounded by a pool of his own dark blood; dead, his mother and father lying not far away. She would be the cause of their destruction, of Kyrria’s destruction. It would be as if she had stabbed him herself. He was precious too, and definitely did not deserve to die and neither his family. She closed her eyes,

If there is any sort of deity up there who can help me out, it would be greatly appreciated.

Then she looked up at the Captain, “You may tell your Queen that she can go to hell.”

In the blink of an eye he had grabbed her arm roughly, forming bruises on her skin.

“Wrong answer.”

“Let her go!” Hannah shouted, but found a sword tip pointed straight at her throat. Russell swung Téa around towards the door, pushing her out. He whispered in her ear,

“I hope you two had a good time, because you’ll never see her again.”

The door slammed behind them.

~~~

(A/N: Think of the scene from the Count of Monte Cristo)

With her hands bound in front of her, the two men spun her around to face the wall. Using a hook attached to a chain, they wound it around her bonds and pulled her arms up with a pulley, until her feet were barely touching the ground. The freezing cold on her bare back made her shiver hard; and out of the corner of her eye she saw one of them pick up a whip.

Crack. The sting of leather against her skin was so strong that she couldn’t help but shriek. It hit her again, just at her lower back. Her own weight was beginning to stretch out the muscles in her shoulders

Again, below her right arm, making her screams echo down the hall.

Again, just at the base of her neck. She yelled again, wanting to throw up from all the pain.

Ten minutes felt like ten hours, and her back was a bloody mess. The man at the whip did not seem to tire at all, cracking the whip so hard against her that she began to swing on the chain that held her up. This was even worse than the first time, she thought to herself. Last time she had not wanted to die.

BOOM!

A huge explosion down the hall caused the flogging to cease, both of the men looking out the door of the little cell. Though she couldn’t see anything, she could clearly make out the sound of something hard hitting a human skull. Two of them, in fact.

The pulley released the chain that held her up, and she fell to the ground, not able to support herself from how weak she felt. Two small hands grasped hers and pulled her to her feet.

“Put your arm around me Téa,” Hannah said, helping her sister towards the door, “the armory is not far from here.”

“How much mendstone did you use,” Téa asked weakly.

“All of it,” Hannah grinned, half dragging her sister down the dark corridor.

By the time they reached the armory, Téa was able to use enough strength to walk on her own. Hannah pulled the door open to find a very long room filled to the brim with swords, knives, and every imaginable tool that could penetrate skin. On the right, she spotted her daggers and grabbed them. Hannah grabbed a long sword, her sister giving her a skeptical look.

“Can you use that?”

“We’ll find out.”

They peered out the doorway. Shouting could clearly be heard from both directions. Téa looked at Hannah,

“You do know this is suicide, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good, let’s go.”

A/N: I would just like to take this opportunity to say how very disappointed I was in the Ella Enchanted movie, that being said, on with the story……

“Remind me why I’m standing here again?”

Ella cast a sidelong glance at her son, “We’re receiving guests, Namian. The royal families of Archadia have been our allies for many centuries.”

“I know why you’re here, but why am I here?”

Char looked over as well, trying very hard not to laugh and Namian’s annoyed expression, “They’ve heard of the ball and are very anxious to attend, especially…”

Uh oh, Namian knew what was coming next. The prince groaned, “Tiana is coming, isn’t she?”

“Nice to know I’ve raised such a clever lad.”

Namian adjusted uncomfortably in his royal uniform, tugging at its black collar. Tiana had been a thorn in his side since he was ten. They had both been children when they first met at a royal banquet over seven years ago, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that she had developed a bit of a crush on him.

No, “a bit” was the biggest exaggeration of the century. Whenever they were even within the same country she pursued him tirelessly, and normally Namian wouldn’t have minded so much (being the teenage boy that he was). The princess was very pretty to say the least, but he despised how she treated those lower than her. She was known for her temper and for taking it out on the servants of her castle.

As the family of three stood in the throne room in their fine attire, the great doors swung open slowly and the announcer walked in.

“You’re most gracious majesties, may I present to you his royal highness of Archadia, King Malik, his wife, Queen Raina and their daughter, the Princess Tiana.”

After one incredibly lavish bow, the announcer stepped aside and let the royal family enter. Malik was first, a broad smile luminous through his blond beard. Namian had never really liked him; his illustrious and jolly manner had always felt so fake, as though he were secretly taunting those he laughed with. His wife was frail and timid, always glancing at the floor when she spoke, unheard of for a queen. His mother had tried several times to make friends, but she always backed just out of her reach, as if she was being confronted by a tiger.

Then there was Tiana. She looked elegant and lovely in her ice blue gown, her ash blonde hair woven into several complicated braids atop her head. Her mouth held a smirk as she walked behind her father, giving Namian a wink. He nodded his head politely, though running from the room was extremely tempting right at the moment. In Archadia arranged marriages were still practiced, and he knew for a fact that if Kyrria did the same he and the princess would have been betrothed long ago.

“Charmont, my lad! It’s been ages!” The King of Archadia grabbed Char in a fierce bear hug, barely giving him time to catch his breath when he was released. Char quickly regained his composure and smiled,

“Please, call me Char.”

Malik just laughed, “My lad, you are a king now! Informality is a sign of weakness. Come now, surely your old man must have taught you that!”

Char winced a little at the mention of his father, “I’m afraid it never came up.”

“That’s a right shame,” Malik’s eyes twinkled, “I’ll be sure that you and I will have time for that discussion later. Being the ruler of a nation isn’t all parades and signing documents, you know.” He gave him another hard slap on the back. Queen Ella looked severely aggravated,

“Perhaps if your majesty will take the time to read our nation’s history, you would find that Char is well versed in the art of battle, as well as signing documents.”

Her voice was edged, but Malik didn’t seem to care in the least. Acting as though he had not heard her, he stepped back and gestured to the two women behind him,

“You’ve met my wife, Queen Eleanor?”

“On several occasions,” Ella smiled politely, not bothering to correct him on her name. She stepped forward and held out her hand, but Queen Raina only stepped back a little and nodded her head. Not saying a word.

“And, of course, my daughter Tiana?”

Tiana walked over to Namian and curtsied, “I am very much looking forward to this ball that I’ve heard so much about. Am I correct in assuming that you are to choose your wife there?”

Namian returned a bow and kissed her hand, “That is a possibility, yes.”

She grinned even wider and stepped back. Malik grinned as well, but he and Tiana were the only ones. It was no secret as to why they were here; Archadia wanted a piece of Kyrria’s wealth as much as any country if not more. All of this pretending was making Namian feel ill.

After an awkward silence, Char stepped into the role of host again,

“If you would care to follow these two gentlemen,” he indicated the two guards standing by the door, “They will see you to your quarters. If there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to ask.”

The Archadian royal family bowed in unison, as did Namian’s family. Malik walked out first, followed by a murmuring Queen Raina, and last was Tiana, who kept looking over her shoulder and making little waves with her hand. As soon as the doors shut they all relaxed. King Charmont sighed,

“The last thing I want to do is talk about war with him.”

“Shush,” his wife said quickly, though she was smirking, “They might still be within earshot.”

“How our two nations ever became allies is beyond me, that man is as insufferable as his ancestors have been.”

Ella and Namian nodded in agreement.

“Can’t we ask them to leave, father?”

“I’m afraid not,” the king loosened his collar by undoing a few buttons, “Despite being insufferable they are still our allies and command respect. The ball is only a week away, they’ll depart afterwards.”

Char looked as though he didn’t really care, but didn’t say another word. Secretly Namian hoped that they had heard him.

They sped down the hallway, weapons in hand, ready to run through any who would so much as attempt to stop them from escape. Needles pushed themselves into Téa’s back as she ran, but she did her best to ignore them. Every once in a while the loss of blood would make her feel faint, but Hannah would pull her up and they would run again.

“How are we supposed to get out of here?” Hannah said with rushed breath. They stood with their backs pressed against the wall, listening for any sound of pursuers around the corner. Shouts and the sound of stomping feet could be heard, but none really coming in their direction. They had turned so many corners and ran down so many halls that even they knew not where they were.

“It’s the labyrinth from hell,” Téa gasped, feeling the wounds reopening, “do you remember which halls they took you down when they brought you here?”

Her sister shook her head, “No idea, I was unconscious. It’s of no consequence anyway; all these halls look the same.”

“We have to find the main corridor at least, I remember that much.”

Hannah nodded her agreement.

“There they are!”

Téa looked up and saw three burly men running down the hallway towards them. Without hesitation she sprang into action. With an expert hand she threw a dagger at the one ahead of the group, hitting him square in the chest. He fell instantly, but the other two kept coming. Hannah raised her sword high and struck it with another, but her strength was no match for his and it wasn’t long before her sword clattered to the ground. He approached her menacingly.

“Téa!”

“Hang on,” Téa yelled, slitting the third man’s throat then running to help her sister. She leapt onto his back and choked him with both her arms as he beat at her with his fists. Slowly but surly, his breath left him and he fell to the ground.

“I can’t take much more of this,” she panted, grabbing her knife that was still stuck in the man’s chest.

Just then five more arrived at the end of the hallway, “I see the prisoners, after them!”

“Time to go!”

~*~*~

“How could they escape!”

Russell ducked his head to avoid being struck by a glass vile. Queen Rhiannon pulled at her blonde locks in frustration and angrily swept an arm across another table, sending its contents crashing to the ground.

“Do you realize what this means, Russell?!!”

“I do, my lady.”

Another glass beaker flew at his head, narrowly missing him, “You were in charge of their cell, Russell,” she spat the name as if it were poison, “it is your fault you let them escape!”

Anger flashed in the captain’s eyes, but he maintained a calm expression, “If I may, my lady, it was not my idea to lock them in a cell together.”

“Are you blaming me for this?!”

“Of course not, my lady, but our only problem at the moment is two children running freely in a labyrinth they cannot possibly comprehend.”

Queen Rhiannon plopped gracefully onto her throne, her anger subsiding, “These are not simply children, Russell. I’ve watched this girl for a long time; I know what she is capable of.”

“She’s only seventeen, my lady.”

“With seventeen years of experience, Russell, she was our greatest hope of invading the castle successfully.”

Russell approached her, “There is still hope.”

She waved it off, “You speak nonsense.”

“I speak the truth,” he kneeled so he was eye level with her. She looked him squarely in the eyes, a smile playing on her lips,

“If you are so sure, Russell, what do you suggest?”

“Let them escape.”

~*~*~

The commotion behind them grew so loud it sounded like a riot, but Téa and her sister were more concerned with what was going on in front. The common people that occupied the underground city were no longer simply milling around, but grabbing from all directions trying to catch them. Thankfully, most of them stayed clear of Hannah’s sword, but some were proving a downright pain to get past. Two of them were already between them and the entry to the main corridor.

Téa lunged to one side. One of them dived for her but she tripped him up. A second pulled out a knife and stood squarely in the frame of the entry, daring her to make the first move. He spread himself to block any possible escape.

The target was too good to pass up. Téa kicked him hard between the legs and they leapfrogged him when he doubled over. Now they were in the main corridor, something she finally recognized. People of all sizes and genders were peering out from different passages, while others drew knives and other weapons.

The corridor seemed a mile long and at least twenty feet wide, but looking back Téa could see that time was not on their side. She grabbed Hannah’s free hand and pulled her forward, taking care to jump over the by-sitters in the hall that blocked their way. Almost at once she stopped, observing the human blockade before her. They were never going to escape!

Téa didn’t care much what happened to her - she’d wriggled out of her fair share of tight spots - but she couldn’t let her sister die. She pushed Hannah behind her and drew her knives, lowering her frame in a fighting stance and flipping them expertly to show them she wasn’t afraid to shed blood. One man approached her with a stake in his hand; she faked a right and plunged a knife into his side, making him cry out.

“Put them away, Arleta, there’s no sense in getting your sister killed.”

Téa’s thoughts of bloodshed completely dissipated the moment she heard her real name spoken. She straightened up and searched the sea of faces for the speaker. It didn’t take long to figure out who as the crowd parted and revealed the speaker not thirty feet away, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword. He clucked his tongue,

“Your natural hair suits you.”

Her face screwed into a scowl, “Before I die I’m going to kill you, Harloe.”

He looked amused at her threat, and turned his focus to the crowd of people around him,

“Return to your homes and stay there.”

No one moved.

“Now!”

The people filtered out until the main corridor was completely empty save for the three of them. Téa watched him, as he approached her, not giving any indication that he was going to attack her. He stopped when their faces were close and cupped her cheek. She didn’t move away. She still couldn’t bring herself to believe that her dearest friend was responsible for her parents’ murders. He studied her face for a long time.

“Why did you tell them where they lived?”

He seemed not to hear her, “You know, there was a time when I thought I was in love with you, Arleta.”

What was he talking about? “I don’t understand.”

His hand moved from her cheek and slapped her hard. The force of it made her vision spin. Hannah looked furious but Téa motioned for her not to move.

“Harloe stop it!” Hannah shouted.

Harloe simply observed his slightly red hand and sighed,

“You don’t remember any of it, do you? What a stupid thing to forget…another person’s feelings.”

“What are you going on about?” Téa rubbed her offended cheek and backed up a few steps. She was hurt and confused by all this, and here her best friend was acting like a madman!

“Two years ago on the day I was about to leave the tribe I told you about how much you meant to me, and you threw it in my face and called me an emotional nitwit. Tell me, Arleta, you’ve killed enough men; did you ever kill their spirits as well? You must be an expert after you did it to the prince.”

“Don’t bring him into this! I was fifteen when you left, anyway!”

“Didn’t matter, and it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Oh, that wasn’t the kind of tone she wanted to hear. This wasn’t her best friend anymore; this was a maniac with a rather shiny looking sword that he was very capable of using in his right hand. What had they done to him? She swallowed hard and took another step back, but this time he took a step in their direction, closing the gap. She tried to gulp back some saliva to dry her throat but found she had none.

“Why…why did you have them killed, Harloe?”

He smirked a little, looking as though he was recalling a memory, “I knew you’d blame me for that. I didn’t tell them where they lived to have them killed, I just told them because I figured that’s where you were.”

Now she was livid, “But you knew! You knew something would happen to them! How can you do something like that to people who loved you? People who had no part in this......my parents…”

Téa could hear Hannah gasp a little as she cried. For a moment she could see something flicker in Harloe’s eyes when he saw her sister’s tears, but he quickly shook his head of it and his eyes glazed a little,

“I hate to see Hannah cry, so I’ll tell you what. Téa, you beat me in a duel and I’ll step aside and let you escape through the entrance over there.”

She looked at him skeptically, “And you won’t stop us?”

“I swear on my honor.”

“That’s hardly any good seeing as you don’t have any.”

“Ouch,” he grasped a hand over his heart, “Very well, then, I’ll put down my sword and let Hannah leave first, then we duel. If you beat me, you can leave too.”

Téa exchanged looks with Hannah, and while she was doing so Harloe picked up his sword and cut the back of her hand, making her drop one of her knives. She grabbed her wounded hand and glared at him,

“What the hell was that!?!”

“Another condition of the duel,” he said simply, “You have to fight me with a sword.”

Téa’s jaw nearly hit the floor, “You can’t be serious! I don’t know how to use a sword and you know it!”

“And you think I would face you with your daggers, you’d have one in my side before I could take a step. No, I think two swords will do nicely.”

“You…” she swore, “If you think I’m just going to stand here and watch you lop my head off then you are sick.”

He pointed his sword at them, “I could kill you now, of course. And Queen Rhiannon would pay me handsomely for it, but if I know you like I think I do, you’d rather get Hannah out, am I correct?”

She gripped her hands into fists, making the blood from her fresh cut drip off of her knuckles. As much as she hated him right now he was right, her main priority was getting Hannah out. She turned to her sister and motioned for her to leave,

“Steal a horse and go to the nearest town, I’ll meet you there.”

“Téa…no…”

“Go!”

Téa shouted so loud it made Hannah jumped a little, but she did as she was told. She quickly stepped around Harloe and made her way towards the exit, making sure to pick up Téa’s knives on her way out. With one last look at her sister, she disappeared behind the stone walls. Téa watched her go, and then looked back at her ex-best friend who was smiling in a pleasantly fake way.

“Shall we?”

~*~*~

Hannah made her way up the steps, careful to listen for any sounds of approaching footsteps. Some sunlight began peeking from behind a wall, so she started to run…only to have her trip cut shortly from an arm encircling her waist and a rough hand covering her mouth.

~*~*~

Well, that didn’t take long. Already Harloe had her shoved up against a wall with their swords crossed in a struggle to push against the other. His face was unbearably close to hers,

“I’m curious to see how you’ll get out of this one, Arleta.”

She mustered up all of her strength and pushed him away from her, “Now I know why I hate being called by my first name, and it’s because of you, Harloe.” She dodged a swipe from his blade and attempted a much more pathetic swing of her own, which he sidestepped easily. He found the exclamation amusing,

“Really, what did I ever do?”

“Every time you said my name, it sounded like you were spitting it. I wondered why before, but I guess now I know. Ow!!”

He’d managed to cut the back of her other hand. For the love of the creator, she thought to herself, after being cut so much all the magic in Fairyland will never be able to make her skin look normal again. Harloe forced her into a corner again, but this time she avoided a blow to her stomach by ducking under his free arm with as much speed as she could.

It was hopeless! She was terrible with the sword and it was a miracle she had lasted this long without getting killed. At first she hadn’t expected him to try to murder her, but the realization became more evident as his eyes grew darker and his swings grew wilder and larger.

Then she had an idea,

“Harloe?”

Swish, “Yes?”

“How did they convince you,” sszing! “to join their side?”

Clang, “Well, her majesty can be quite the motivational speaker,” zing! “that and a lot of money, of course.”

She dodged another swipe again, careful not to use her own sword. He swung at her head this time, and she could feel the wind of it on her cheek.

“Money….of course it was money. Why is it I wouldn’t put that past you, Harloe?”

He swung at her again, this time his breathing becoming visibly harder. He was getting tired. She avoided it again. She had to keep him talking,

“I don’t understand, if you loved me so much then why didn’t you stay?”

“I would have if you had returned my love,” swipe, “but you didn’t.”

Clang! Their swords met and made sparks, “But I was fifteen, Harloe, I wasn’t prepared for anything like that. I thought you would understand.”

“Well, I may have overreacted.”

“Overreacted?” she swung at him this time, she couldn’t help it. He parried it easily,

“Yes! You try telling someone that you love them and have them throw it back in your face! You killed me that day, Arleta!”

“But I thought you were joking! You were never serious unless you were teasing me, I didn’t understand. I was only a kid.”

None of her words seemed to take effect mentally; he still fought like he was after blood. But it did affect him physically, his movements were getting slower.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I have a life down here now, and once you’re dead you will no longer plague my mind,” Harloe thrust his sword at her so fast that she nearly tripped over her own feet. Fighting to regain her balance, she tried to get him to talk again,

“You’ve changed, Harloe. What happened to you? What did they do to you?”

He didn’t seem to be falling for it, though. He smiled down at her,

“I would really love to catch up,” Harloe casually sidestepped a steel arc, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to end this now.” Then he lunged at her.

The thing was, though, Téa had been avoiding being struck by his blade for so long that he had become tired. So when he lunged at her, it wasn’t exactly with cat-like precision. He stumbled towards her, blade aimed for her heart. Without thought Téa immediately dropped to her knees and thrust her sword upwards, closing her eyes when she felt it push through something soft. Harloe fell down the blade and collapsed on top of her. She watched the life slowly leaving his eyes, a kind of realization coming over him,

“I’m…” he choked on the blood filling his mouth, “I’m sorry—”

Then she realized what she had done. Téa grabbed Harloe and held him to her while he died; her mouth slightly open in a silent scream. All thoughts of hatred and revenge left her head as she held her childhood friend in her arms and she shed what seemed like a river of tears. She felt a masculine hand gently grip her shoulder,

“We have to go now, Téa.”

Namian? She looked at the hand on her shoulder, then followed it up the arm to the face attached to it. Through a golden halo of hair, she saw that it wasn’t Namian, but Bowen. Tanya stood behind him with Hannah, hands clutched over her heart at the sight of Harloe. Téa looked back at her dead companion and found that she was still crying,

“I’m killing all those I love.”

Bowen knelt next to her and wiped her wet face with his sleeve,

“No one holds more love than you, Téa. They knew it, they still know it,” he gently pushed Harloe off of her and helped her to her feet, “If we leave now you can still save him.”

“Him? Namian?”

“You love him, yes?” Tanya asked.

Love him? Do I? “I…I’ll just end up hurting him.”

“Not if we leave now. He’s holding a ball next week, it’s the perfect opportunity to get near him and tell him what’s going on.”

Téa nodded and they headed towards the stairs. Because of Harloe’s orders, none of the people of the city had emerged yet, so they were free to leave without complications. The guards at the entrance were no bother either, as they were bound and gagged on the forest floor. Bowen grinned, nodding his head in the direction of a young man standing off towards the forest. Téa looked surprised,

“Victor? What are you doing?”

He shrugged, “If Russell asks, say you did it.”

Téa smiled a little as she mounted Calla, her heart still heavy over Harloe.

“Are you going to come?”

“Yes,” he nodded his head and pointed to his own horse, “I’ll accompany you to the gypsies. I can’t really say I cared much for this job. There must be better ways of earning money.”

“We’ll take you back to the camp, first,” Tania told them, helping Hannah onto her horse, “You’ll both need some healing and…Téa’s going to need a gown.”

“A gown?”

Tania laughed a little at Téa’s dismay, “Of course, you can’t attend a royal ball in a shredded frock.”

Téa shrugged and heaved a sigh, “Whatever I need to do, I suppose. If anything the first thing I’ll do is slap him when I get the chance. Month after month of nearly getting ourselves killed and he throws a party when he gets home. Typical boy.”

“Hey!” Bowen gave her a look.

Tania reined her horse towards the direction they were headed, “It’ll be hard to get to him, though, best we get you there late when the crowds have died down.”

“Why?”

“There will be a lot of women there. He’s choosing his wife there, you know.”

“Oh, okay…..wait a minute…..he’s choosing a WHAT?!?!?”

 A/N: Yeah, I really have no excuse this time. I don’t know what to say, I’m lazy, I guess. I’m just hoping you’ll all forgive me and I’m hoping I’ll be able to get the next chapter out quicker. My best friend may be coming to live with me for school, and she tends to keep reminding me that I have stories to write, so that will most likely help. I’m sorry this chapter sucked, but the next one will be on Namian and the ball, so yay fun yippy skippy to that! I’ve been waiting to write that chapter for a while. Thank you my kind and patient readers; I swear I’m not trying to frustrate you on purpose.

la chica mysteriosa: I don’t skip lines on purpose, it’s the format on ff.net I guess. I kind of like it, it makes it easier to read  

BOREDxPERSON: *ducks* Oi, no more rocks! I’m sorry!