"He went missing, and nobody thought to tell me?" Rachel demanded, her head whirling. So much for being deathly calm, she thought wryly.

"Well, right after we found out he was missing, Will fell ill," Robin explained, his face red at Rachel's scolding.

Rachel took several deep breaths in an effort to calm herself. My perfect wedding day is officially ruined. What am I going to do? She had a fair idea that whatever had happened to Guy wouldn't be solved quickly. She put her hand to her forehead, trying to soothe the sudden panic inside. "Alright...look." Then Robin's words hit home. "You mean right after Guy disappeared, Will's injury returned?"

"Yes," Alan answered. "I remember Marian coming and telling us Gisborne was gone, then Will stood up and collapsed. It was all very disturbing."

Rachel pursed her lips, putting her fists on her hips as she thought. All in one night, Will's old injury that had almost meant Final Death for him had returned, Morpheus, the god of dreams, who couldn't dream, had a nightmare, and Guy of Gisborne had disappeared into thin air. It was too convenient, and Rachel had the terrible feeling she knew exactly who had done all those things. There was only one person she could turn to.

Rachel started walking away from Robin and Alan, leaving Robin confused. Alan was not one to be deterred and scampered after her. "Wait! Where are you going?" he asked.

"Camelot," Rachel replied. "Merlin's bound to know what's going on. And if he doesn't, he'll help me find out."

"I'm coming with you," Alan said. "They tried to hurt Will; I'm not going to let them finish the job."

Rachel eyed him. He and Merlin had a history of arguing over what was good music and what wasn't. Basically, anything Alan tried to sing, Merlin qualified as "not good". She didn't have time for their endless arguing, but she also didn't want to hurt the bard's feelings. He'd probably go in a corner and sing sad ballads for hours. Alan seemed to sense her indecision and hastily added, "Look, I'll behave! No singing. See? I'll even leave my lute here." So saying, Alan placed the lute on the wall and spread his hands. "You can even gag me if you'd like."

"Only if it comes to that," Rachel said, sighing. "Fine. You can come. But if either you or Merlin mentions music, I'm putting you to sleep. Fair?"

"I can't control what Merlin says," Alan complained.

Rachel glared at him.

"Fine!" Alan said, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Not a word. When do we go?"

A Story door opened behind Alan. Rachel pointed to it. "Now," she answered.

. . . . . . . .

Merlin, lounging on his bed reading a book, was startled by the sudden knocking on his door. He ran a hand through his neat black hair, frustrated. Nobody ever came so early. He really didn't want to deal with anyone at the moment. Merlin did not consider himself to be a "morning person".

Tossing his book onto the pillow, Merlin went and opened the door a crack. "This had better be good," he muttered, then stopped short. "Rachel?"

The Guardian, probably the only person in the whole Story who was shorter than Merlin, nodded. "Hello, Merlin," Rachel said. Her clear blue eyes stared at him. He spotted the lines of worry on her face, and frowned. Something was wrong. Wonderful.

"It's early, Rachel," Merlin complained. "Must you come at the crack of dawn?"

"It's—" Rachel started.

A familiar—and entirely unwelcome—voice interrupted her. "Gisborne is missing and Will is hurt!" Alan-a-Dale said in his rapid-fire way. "She thought you could help her figure out what had happened."

"You brought the bard." As if the morning couldn't get any worse, Merlin thought glumly.

"I can speak for myself, Alan," Rachel said irritably. "Do we have to talk to you through the door, Merlin?"

Merlin flushed as he realized he was still looking at them through the crack in his door. "Sorry!" he apologized, opening the door. "Come in. But if you start singing..."

"Already been warned," Alan said, holding his hands up innocently. He followed Rachel inside.

Rachel took a moment to raise an eyebrow at Merlin's room. It was more of a library than a bedroom; the only thing that made it into a bedroom was the bed. Everything else was books. The table was stacked with books, the walls were lined with bookshelves...there were even several books on Merlin's bed. He saw her looking and blushed. "I read in my spare time," he explained. "Trying to catch up on the new Story. Every day the new occurrences turn up in these. I read to keep up with them."

Rachel picked up a book and flipped through it. "Huh. 'The Little Mermaid'," she said.

Alan had another one. "What's this one?" the curious bard asked. "'Rapunzel'. Isn't that some sort of leaf? Like lettuce?"

Merlin took 'Rapunzel' from Alan. "Please don't touch," he said. "These are very important, and I'd hate for something to happen to them." His precious books once more restored to their original locations, he turned back to Rachel. "Have you any idea where Guy is?" There was a strange tone to his voice, like a teacher asking a student a trick question. Rachel frowned inwardly at it.

"Don't play games with me, Merlin," Rachel said. "I don't have time. The Editor took him. I know it."

"Ah, the Editor," Merlin said.

"The Editor?" Alan repeated, looking confused. "What's the Editor? Why would they take Guy? And what does Will's getting hurt have to do with this?"

"One question at a time, Alan!" Merlin scolded him sharply. "I can't keep up with you! In answer to your first question, the Editor is the person who first wrote The Story. I imagine Rachel's rewrite was a nasty surprise."

"Why does it not surprise me that you know about the Editor too?" Rachel said, sighing.

"To be perfectly honest, I only found out about four months ago," Merlin admitted. "Right after the Editor sent you a threatening note, I believe."

"Let me guess," Rachel said, and motioned to the huge amount of books in Merlin's room.

Merlin nodded. "Good guess," he answered. He shifted through a few books until he found the one he was looking for. He held up a 'Book of Greek Myths'. "This one, in fact. Funny how you've been lumped in with the rest of the Greek mythology."

Rachel shrugged, ignoring the book. "Then I take it you knew Will got hurt?" she asked.

Merlin coughed. "Err, well, I didn't exactly get that far," he answered, looking ashamed.

"For shame," Alan scolded. "You have all these books and you missed one?"

Probably knowing Alan and Merlin could go on forever, Rachel quickly stopped that conversation before it could go on any further. "Will's old injury reopened. I think I got it in time, but it still doesn't make sense. How could it happen?"

"Hmm," Merlin said thoughtfully. He was interrupted by a timid knock on the door, followed by a little call, "Merlin?"

Alan grinned broadly. He went to speak, but Merlin hastily clouted him on the ear to stop anything he was going to say. Merlin went to the door, opening it a little. The girl's voice went on, "Merlin, thank God! Something terrible is happening."

"Not now," Merlin answered in a low voice. Glancing back, he saw Alan looking away, feigning disinterest, while Rachel was staring at him. She would guess the truth in another minute, Merlin thought frantically. "Please, I have guests."

Guinevere was too distressed to hear. "Someone tried to kill me and Arthur, Merlin," she sobbed, and flung herself into his arms. Blast.

"Merlin?" Rachel's voice was eerily calm. He carefully detached Guinevere's arms from around him, turning to face the Guardian. Her hands were on her hips. "Care to explain yourself?"

"This—it's—blast," Merlin said finally. Rubbing his face with one hand, Merlin went on, "Gwen, this is Rachel Andric and Alan-a-Dale. Rachel, Alan, this is Queen Guinevere."

Gwen's amber eyes swept over Alan and Rachel, her pale finger twirling her golden curl of hair. She was about a half a head taller than Merlin, and was somewhere in her mid-twenties. "Lady Andric, Sir Alan," Gwen said finally, sweeping a curtsey.

Rachel sent Merlin a glare before adopting a friendlier gaze with Guinevere. "Pleasure," she said. "Care to sit down and tell us what's the matter?"

Gwen obliged and sat on the edge of Merlin's bed. "It was...just about a half an hour ago," she explained, her voice trembling. She continued to twirl her blonde curl, a nervous habit Merlin thought quite attractive. Focus, or Rachel will flay you alive. "A man suddenly appeared, and he attacked Arthur!" She put her head in her hands and started crying.

"This man, what did he look like?" Alan asked curiously.

"He—he was younger than me," Gwen said, removing her hands from her face. "Dark hair, brown eyes...and black armor."

Rachel and Alan stared at each other. Merlin squirmed uncomfortably. "Rachel, there must be numerous people who match that description," he suggested.

"He was really muscular," Guinevere put in. "And extremely tall. Taller than Arthur, even."

Rachel massaged her forehead. It couldn't be. Merlin was right; there had to be many people who fit that description. Yet she couldn't shake the nervous feeling that had settled over her. "Did he say anything?" she asked.

"N—no," Gwen answered, shaking her head. "He didn't."

Rachel looked at Merlin. "There's only one thing I can do," she said. "Gwen, I'm going to put you to sleep and make you relive that memory."

Guinevere stared at her. "Wh—what?" she said, startled.

Rachel put her finger on Guinevere's forehead, and the queen slumped backwards on the bed. Rachel closed her eyes.

. . . . . . .

I clutched the wall behind me, staring at the man who had come to attack us. Arthur stood between us, his sword out. "What do you want with us?" he demanded of the mysterious assassin.

The man didn't speak. He lunged at Arthur, and their swords clashed in midair, sparks flying. I screamed, terrified. Where was Merlin? He could save us! I knew Arthur; he wasn't much of a fighter.

Thank God, Percival appeared behind the man and tackled him. "Get out!" Sir Percival yelled at us. Arthur grabbed my hand and hauled me around the corner. Percival followed us. When he looked around the corner, he relaxed. "The man's gone, sire," he said.

"Who was that?" Arthur asked wonderingly. I didn't answer. I fled in search of Merlin. I needed him.

. . . . . . .

Rachel pulled out of Guinevere's dream. She couldn't believe what she had seen. Horror filled her. How could he have done that?

Alan was too impatient to wait for Rachel to fully comprehend what she'd seen. "Well?" he said.

Rachel looked at him, unfeeling after the initial shock. "Guinevere's attacker," she said. "It was...Guy. Guy of Gisborne."