Philip and Martin walked through the forest together. Although he wanted to keep it in his hands, Philip handed Martin The Story Book to make sure that he kept a firm grasp on Mimi. If she regained consciousness and tried to make a run for it, she could potentially reveal their location to the Guardians, and that would be that. Their narrow escape at the Guardians' castle would have been for nothing.

The only sound was the rain slapping against the leaves of the dark trees as it started getting heavier. The road they walked along was evidently well-traveled and smashed down by the feet of many travelers. It was kept clear of all underbrush and weeds, the grass kept off the path as if by magic. Still, there was no sound except for the rain and the dull thuds of Philip and Martin's feet as they walked.

Finally, Philip felt he had to speak to his protégé. "Why did you hide your magic from me? It might have been nice to know before."

Martin shrugged a little. "I thought that you might share the Guardians' prejudice against sorcery in their ranks," he admitted. "It's dangerous and unpredictable. My parents spent many years learning, and they in turn taught me. Perhaps they knew I would have to defend myself. Or maybe they just wanted me to be ready, no matter what. Whatever the case, I'm glad they did. We would have had a difficult time getting out of the castle otherwise."

"I'll say," Philip said. "I'd shake your hand, but I'd drop Mimi."

"Drop her," Martin suggested. "It was her fault we almost got caught anyway."

Philip sighed at him. "Having a protégé didn't exactly curb my rebellious nature," he said thoughtfully.

"No. In fact, I think it did just the opposite." When Philip sent him a baleful look, Martin smiled innocently and they walked on in silence.

Finally, they reached the end of the forest—Philip rethought his first belief that the forest had been "little", thanks to his sore feet—and Martin's mouth fell open. "Good heavens. I've never seen such a castle before."

Philip pushed aside the leaves and looked at the massive, white stone castle there. It was even larger than Camelot, with several towers waving the flag of Camelot atop its battlements. A massive drawbridge was pulled up, preventing anyone from crossing over the moat. "What Story is this?" Philip asked as the two of them approached the drawbridge.

Martin shook his head. "I don't think it is a Story. I think Merlin and other sorcerers created the castle from magic," he said. "It's quite remarkable, and a great feat of magic. Possibly even a demonstration of the rebellion's might. Whatever the case, if they felt such a need for this large of a castle, then perhaps their numbers are greater than I thought."

Philip had given little thought to the number of people in the rebellion. Deciding not to point that out, he silently stopped in front of the drawbridge with Martin only a few paces behind. One of the guards on the other side hailed them. "Who goes there?"

"Philip Andric, his protégé, Martin Relen, and ..." He glanced down at Mimi helplessly. "A prisoner." There really wasn't any other way to describe poor Mimi. She never would have come of her own free will.

After a few minutes of consultation, one of the guards ran into the castle. "You'll have to wait," the other soldier yelled back to Philip.

"Okay," Philip answered. He glanced at Martin inquisitively.

"They're probably asking Merlin," he guessed. "My presence was probably not expected or welcome. The name of Relen isn't exactly one that people trust."

Philip wasn't sure why. Merlin of all people should have been thankful and indebted to Martin's parents for their part in his rebellion. Yet that didn't seem to be the case, at least, for what Martin was thinking. The boy looked decidedly uncomfortable as they waited for the soldier's return.

After what felt like decades, the drawbridge was lowered and the men waved them on without a word. Philip glanced at Martin curiously. "Friendly, aren't they?" he commented.

Martin shrugged. "They're guards. They do their job and continue on." When the drawbridge slammed shut behind them, trapping them on the side of the moat with the castle, though, Martin grimaced. "I can't help but feel that's rather ominous."

Philip chuckled. "Stop being a worrywart. We've got something Merlin really wants. He's indebted to us."

"Am I?" Merlin stepped out of the castle as they mounted the steps to the massive doors. Philip jumped and nearly tumbled back down the stairs. "Do I take that to mean that you bring me something other than a useless Guardian for a prisoner?"

Philip motioned to Martin, who stepped forward, indicating the book in his hands. A greedy expression came over Merlin's face as he took it reverently from Martin. Then he tucked it under his arm and motioned to two guards who had been behind him, indicating Mimi. Reluctantly, Philip let her go and they carried her away. "Where are you taking her?" he asked.

"It's none of your concern. But if you really must know, we are placing her in a holding cell until we can decide what to do with her," Merlin added. "I am in your debt, Philip Andric. Your theft of The Story Book has been helpful, most helpful indeed. Once I get the proper ingredients for what I need, the Guardians will be helpful before our power."

"Is that so?" Martin said.

Merlin turned to him, a sneer on his face. "You're the Relens' boy, aren't you?" he said. "Your father never questioned me so. He trusted my judgement. I could request the same of you."

"I'd like to point out that following your judgement didn't get him far," Martin said smoothly. "Other than the executioner's block."

Merlin narrowed his eyes at Martin. "I had nothing but the greatest of respect for your father."

"I wish I could say I had the same for you," Martin replied. "You'll have to earn my respect."

Merlin dismissed Martin with another sneer before turning back to Philip. "Well, Andric? What do you think of my set-up?"

"It's impressive," Philip commented. But he wasn't really thinking about the question. "What are you going to do with The Story Book?"

Judging from the frown on Merlin's face, that was not the question Philip should have asked. "I am the leader of this rebellion, Andric. What I do, I do for the good of the people. Since I do not yet know if I can trust you, let it simply assure you that act on the behalf of The Story. Alright?"

Philip frowned. "I stole that thing for you. How am I not 'trustworthy' enough?"

Merlin spread his hands. "It's a fine gesture, Philip, to be certain, but one that does not prove you to me indefinitely. I am a slow man to trust someone, my friend. And you, being a former Guardian with little reason to side with me ... our trust is going to take a long time."

Philip scowled at the implications. "I'm not going to betray you, Merlin. I'm neck-deep in your mess already."

Merlin returned the scowl with a slim smirk. "I'd rather you were in over your head, Philip. Now come. Don't you want to see my army?"

Although Philip wanted to continue their previous conversation, he nodded. Martin made a face but said nothing. The two of them followed the burly sorcerer into the castle, which was as remarkable inside as it was outside. It seemed to be illuminated by invisible lights, the white stone resembling marble but not as cold. A plush red carpet lined the halls, feeling cushy beneath Philip's feet. He was actually rather enjoying the scenery, but a glance at Martin showed his protégé's displeasure. Perhaps he wasn't as enthusiastic about rebelling now as he had been before.

Members of Merlin's rebellion wandered the castle, undertaking various tasks. Some were moving decorations and furniture around, and others walked around, talking and laughing with each other. It didn't strike Philip as a group preparing for war. They seemed to be having too good a time for that. Seeing as how Merlin didn't seem to enjoy being criticized, he decided not to point that out.

After a long time, Martin begged off of more of the tour. Philip couldn't help but notice that Merlin sent a man after him, to keep an eye on the boy. It annoyed Philip to no end that he and Martin had gone to so much trouble for him, only to be brushed off like dirt.

Normally, his hot temper would have gotten the better of him, but he kept his mouth closed. Something about Merlin told him not to cross the burly sorcerer—mostly because he could either punch Philip's lights out or turn him into a shrew with his magic.

Whichever came first.

Yet, temptation to cross the sorcerer was almost too much for Philip. He had never really liked authority figures, particularly those who could do him great harm. And in his case, "dislike" translated into disobeying them and testing his luck. It was a bad habit, and one that could potentially end his life with Merlin. He would have to fight it down or risk losing everything. It was Philip's own form of gambling—just with his life.

Finally, Philip found that he had to ask. "I brought a Guardian with me. You see, if me and Martin had left her behind, the Guardians would have written her in for failing to protect The Story Book, and, well ... she might be useful."

"Useful?" Merlin questioned doubtfully. "How so?"

"W-well, she's a Guardian, like me and Martin. She can traverse through The Story freely, like us, and ..." Philip struggled to find another reason to keep Mimi around. He wasn't entirely sure why he was so desperate; he just had a terrible feeling he knew what Merlin was planning with the young woman.

Merlin shook his head. "More like, she'll lead the Guardians right to us. Such a girl shouldn't be trusted, Philip. There's only one thing she's going to be good for."

Philip mirrored Merlin's head movements, his lips pursed irritably. "Merlin, please. I stole that book for you. The least you can do is—"

That was apparently the wrong thing to say to Merlin. The burly sorcerer scowled and shouted at Philip, "I owe you nothing! Don't make it appear that I do. You and your little sweetheart mean nothing to me. You swear allegiance to me, Andric, and not to her. Unless you want to return to the Guardians after what you've done, you listen to what I tell you. Do you understand? You've placed yourself under my command."

Seeing that rebelling against Merlin would get him nowhere, Philip averted his eyes and mumbled, "I understand."

Merlin relaxed a little, even giving Philip the smallest hint of a smile. "Good. Because I'm merciful, I'll give you one last chance to speak to your friend, Miss Winthrop, before ..."

"Before what?" Philip demanded.

"Before we execute her. She's a traitor to the cause and deserves no mercy, Andric," Merlin added in a conciliatory tone. "You do understand, of course."

"U-understand?" Philip gaped at Merlin in disbelief.

They couldn't kill Mimi! Philip had brought her with him to protect her, not to get her executed! At first, his lips wouldn't even move to form the words he was searching for. Finally, he managed to say, "Surely there's some kind of a compromise we can make? If I can get Mimi on our side, you wouldn't kill her ... would you?"

"That depends on how trustworthy I find her to be," Merlin said after a moment. "But if I find her to be believed, then I will spare the girl her life. You have five minutes with each other. After that, I pass the final judgement."