*  *  *

Darcius approached the catain that lay in his quarters. He could see she was still stunned from being thrown across the room, but rounded her body as he approached, and sat up, trying to breathe steadily.  Darcius padded towards her. He snatched his long sword up from the side, smiling slightly, he threw his sword from paw to paw, and as he did the sword caught the flicker of the flames from the hearth that lit the room.The young catain tried to push back further into the corner and whimpered. 

"Please!"

"Please what my dear kitain?"

"Don't..." she said closing her eyes shuddering. 

Darcius smiled grimly to himself and dragged over a chair to near where she was cowering and sat down.  He bounced the tip of his sword on the floor nearing it to her hind paw with each bounce. She flinched away from it.  He pulled out a sharpening stone from his pocket.

"What is your name kitain?"

"Flecks," she let out with a sniff,

"Flecksss. Doesn't it sicken you kitain, living down here?"

"I don't understand..." 

Darcius snorted, and ran the stone down the swords length with a satisfying, 'shhhlckt'.

"I remember when I first went in the world above, kitain.  You can't imagine what it was like.  It was like being reborn.  Just breathing the air; each breath was like a banquet, so full of flavour."

Shhhlckt

"And to use my eyes, how catains eyes are meant to be used. To look and to see, not dead cavern walls in these dim corridors but a thousand blades of grass bathed in a light so pure and so golden no flame could ever compare."

 Shhhlckt

"It was the most majestic sight my eyes have ever seen kitain.  I'll never forget it. So my question, doesn't it sicken you, that in your entire miserable and pathetic excuse of a life you will never see these things?"

He watched her swallow, averting her eyes looking anywhere but meeting his own.

"But Cataindar is our home..." she managed.

Darcius could barely hide his disgust. 

"No kitain.  This is not our home."

Darcius thought back to his dear sister. What a wonderful creature she was. He remembered that his sister's stories of the world above had given him nightmares as a kitain. He had imagined a cavern wall so high you could never see to the top, matched with gargantuan roots growing not down but up, grabbing the hind-legs of those that tried to run past. He had imagined ratains stalking these corridors hunting catains to tear limb from limb.

It was impossible for this kitain to understand if she had never seen the world above. He had to open their eyes. He had to show them the truth.

Soon they would see.  

Both their ears heard a beat of four echo along the pipe in the wall. The emergency sign that a contravention was in place.  Darcius' eyes lit up and his demeanour changed.  He quickly placed his sword on his back and darted to his cupboard and pulled out his heavier armour. 

This was the chance!

"Kitain stand. Help me secure this"

Flecks hesitated for a second then cautiously stood and helped Darcius buckle his chest plate.

Darcius checked the strappings, they were tight enough. 

"Thank you, now kitain you may leave, find your friend, hide, be safe."

Flecks looked terrified, but sensing escape made for the door.

"Wait!" Darcius barked.

Flecks froze. Darcius approached her and turned her around slowly.  He carefully adjusted her runner's sash.

"Better. Now go."

Flecks fled out the door into the dark.

Darcius loaded several more darts into their holdings in his chest plate and checked his gauntlets. 

The contravention would plunge Cataindar into a world of darkness and confusion. As the catains did their all to hide the evidence of their existence, it would give him all the time he needed.

*  *  *

Inside Luisa's quarter's there was one small candle burning that lit Clearwater's worried face.

"Oh Princess," she whispered, "thank the dragons you are OK."

"I am fine."

"Who is that with you?"

"It's Finn,"

"Oh! Umm, hello Finn,"

"Hello," Finn whispered in the dark.

There was a long pause. Clearwater's face was the only thing they could see. Finn spoke again.

"Clearwater, you must have the princess leave Cataindar as soon as possible, there is a possible contravention in process. It is too dangerous for her to stay.  I shall stay guard in here and my scougers will be on guard outside her quarters."

Clearwater nodded.

"What's a contravention?" Luisa asked.

"Luisa it is when one of the sacred entrances becomes compromised by the Ratains. If they find us..."

"Oh."

Clearwater cleared her throat,

"Well princess we had better get you into bed,"

Luisa did as she was asked and climbed in, head full of worry.  She laid down and after a while could make out the outlines of Finn and Clearwater sitting next to one another in silence.

But she knew Finn knew what he was doing.

They waited silently in the dark.

* * *

Matthew stared at the message on-screen. Luisa gave me her number!

He bit his wrapped knuckle, ignoring the pain from his sprained thumb. For a week he hadn't had the courage to check his profile. He had fired the message off to Luisa as a hail Mary, half to just do it and half to prove to himself that he wouldn't let White Manor de-rail his life. The boys had waited for him that last day to give him a special send-off; a good arse-kicking. Matthew had injured his thumb covering up his face from the blows.

But Luisa had responded, with a phone number!

Once the incredible rush and satisfaction had evaporated, Matthew's mind began to work. But what now? Call her and say... Say what?

Peals of laughter erupted from the garden. His aunt's friend, Claire, was laughing like a neighing horse at his dad's jokes. It was good to see his dad liven up a bit, even if Claire was a bit too loud and way too touchy-feely.

Coming to this rustic cottage of his aunt's, flung out in the Somerset countryside, had been good for his dad, but it wasn't exactly great fun for Matthew. Part of him felt he had almost ceased to exist, it was very obvious he was an awkward thumb-wounded addition to the adults. Their days just seemed to revolve around massive meals and drinking far too much wine.

Matthew sat back. He couldn't help but wonder what his mum was up to right now. Likely sipping some kind of coconut-based cocktail and sunbathing with Mr. Rawlings, the man she had left dad for. The owner of the media group that owned the paper they both wrote for. Urgh. Gross.

He scrolled through the unanswered emails she had sent him.

Oh yes, his mum and Ron were sailing to Jamaica now and she would write to him again when they got there.

It still hurt him. It wasn't like he wanted to ignore his mum. He had tried to reply to her so many times, had typed the first few lines but he just couldn't physically press send. Out of solidarity to his dad he deleted it. Or because he was still stung from her abrupt departure with no calls or emails for months. Maybe it was a bit of both – she hadn't said goodbye, hadn't told him anything – she just went. With the final slam of their door, she had knocked the first domino and set forth a chain reaction of devastation.

He sighed and re-read Luisa's message; with each read it was like a great wave made of sparkling rainbows and unicorns hit his mind and washed away his negative feelings, leaving him refreshed and whole. Despite everything, she had taken the time to reach out to him.

Maybe it was a sign that he should let it go with his mum. Yes. He would right things today and finally write back. After all, if his mum hadn't left his dad then his dad wouldn't have had his breakdown, wouldn't have stopped working, wouldn't have had to take Matthew out of private school, the bailiffs wouldn't have kicked down their door and taken all their stuff (including Matthew's video-games and game-saves). They wouldn't have had to sell their house and then they wouldn't have had to move to White Manor.

And because all of that happened, I met Luisa.

When he first saw her in English class it felt like the entire cosmos had aligned to put him through this crazy journey just to present him to her. Matthew 2.0; Matthew the survivor. When he'd looked out at the English class, to a sea of hard stares Luisa's face the only one smiling up at him. She had a magical depth to her blue eyes and at that moment it was like everything had been worth it. Just thinking of her, made him feel, well, happy.

But in White Manor he'd soon found out it was nearly impossible to get to know her better. There was no opportunity for talking, just the sharp barbs and banter of the school. Classmates would take any chance to score a gag and now these stupid boys were on his case.

Just shaping her name in his mind made his heart pirouette. Luisa.

He needed some kind of a plan. He was good at plans.

Come on Matthew - think!

He'd kept his dad going at his hardest moments with some excellent plans. He had got creative at paying bills, doing shopping, even pretended to be his dad to sign on to council-support when he was too sick to get out of bed. Now he needed some way to actually see Luisa without the backdrop of violence of White Manor School. Even if it was just for a moment, for a cup of tea, just to talk to her for ten minutes would be so worth it.

But where was she? In Wales. Where am I? Somerset. I need to figure out a plan to visit her in Wales.

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