Castor flexed his fingers, contemplating the way his earthy form moved - the muscles, the skeleton. 

Fascinating. 

"You're stalling," Altair said, resting against the side of a brick built home in the heart of Osha capital. 

"I don't like the way you're thinking." Castor, who sat leisurely on a bench in the next door garden, turned his head, taking in Altair's unmasked appearance. "It's dangerous."

"It's necessary." Altair shivered as a wind brushed by and shot a glare at Castor. "Our last spat didn't bring out the traitor. We need to take the next step."

"I don't see how murder is the next step." 

Altair rolled his eyes, pushing off the wall. "It's not murder and you know it. What better way to draw the traitor out than to get rid of the obstacles in their path?" 

Swaying his head from side to side, Castor shrugged. "True." 

"And we know the outcome."

"It's not guaranteed." 

Altair's mouth tipped. "Isn't it? Besides, wasn't it foretold? Something about the greatest sacrifice being for one you love?"

"On which side?" Castor stretched out his long legs and rested his hands behind his head. "She loves him, that much is obvious."

"You don't think he loves her?" Altair asked, brow arched.

"I think he does - always has. But there are other factors at play. He's pulled toward Bainon. He feels it in his bones to protect his king."

"And I wouldn't stop him from doing so," Altair agreed. "It's his destiny - his Guardianship. All I'm asking is that you trust me. I would never let anything happen to either of them. This is for their own good AND the greater good."

Castor smirked, still lounging on the bench. "You just don't want me near her." 

Altair crossed his arms, face darkening. "You don't deny your attraction." 

"Why would I? Lying is so unbecoming." Castor pushed to his feet, almost granting Altair a smile. "You've spent time with her, but not as I have. It's different." 

With a little shrug, Altair turned away. "But will she want that time with you once she discovers your plans for Samson? He's her favorite. Discovering his betrayal may be too much for her to forgive you."

Castor's jaw clenched, but he knew Altair was right. "It might. It's a risk I'm willing to take. Especially for Eric's safety."

"Ares before Phoenix?" Altair turned back, a pleased expression lighting his face. "It's good to hear you sound like yourself, old friend."

"I will always choose my charge first."

"And I mine. Phoenix over Ares." Altair put a hand on Castor's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "Do you trust me? Do you trust what I want to do - for them and for us?"

Castor hesitated, glancing down the darkened alley toward the onyx castle gleaming in the moonlight. "It's going to be more difficult when she arrives. She'll throw a wrench into our plan."

"But as long as our charges are safe, who cares what hells she raises?"

It was Castor's turn to feel a shiver. "I think you're underestimating her." He turned back to Altair. "But I trust you. I always have. If you think it's best - best for Ares, best for Phoenix - then I agree."

"Good. We begin at once." 

# 

Eric sat, back rigid, at the lone table in his room. Sparse and cold, with only a twin bed in the corner and a miniature armoire for his uniforms, it didn't harken back to memories of a playful childhood. 

Bainon had given him the book on Guardians, and Eric had poured over it ever since. The symbols left his vision fuzzy and crossed whenever he stopped reading, but he knew he had to absorb as much as he could before Narissa took the book away again. 

A soft tap on his door drew his attention. "Enter."

Samson stepped in, a frown fixed on his face. His uniform, pressed to perfection as always, wasn't the standard day-dress, but the formal, blacker outfit reserved for special occasions. 

"Why are you wearing that?" Eric asked, trying to blink away the spots the symbols left in front of his eyes. 

"You'll have to get yours on, too. Apparently the nobles are arriving tonight."

Eric groaned, dropping his head down onto the book. "I hate when they come to court. It's all fancy dinner parties and fake smiles."

"And leering ladies," Samson added with a shudder. "But now isn't the time. The queen sent me for you. Actually, she was going to send Jensa but I volunteered - didn't think you'd want him to find you reading."

"No. I wouldn't." Eric stood, moving to his chest of drawers to pull out his formal uniform. "You won't believe what I've found in there. These markings mean I have powerful parents - most likely both Ancients." He tore off his outer jacket, leaving just his under tunic. "Not every Guardian has these marks - that first passage we read made me think that's so, but it isn't."

Eric pulled on his pure black commander's jacket, buttoning it into place. "Not only that, but each Guardian is different. Most of them are tied to some sort of elemental ability, although some are too weak to actually showcase anything."

"Did it say how many Guardians there are left or how we can find them?" Samson asked, standing feet apart, hands behind his back, unmoved from the spot he'd landed in when he entered.

"No such luck. The book seemed to update itself, though. Tarvril's attack against the Guardians is written in the very back - the last chapter before it ends. Neither Bainon nor Narissa can read the symbols, so their story must be true."

"It does seem fitting with everything we know about Tarvril," Samson said with a nod. "He slaughtered them all and then - "

"Not them all. A few escaped." Eric turned to Samson, remembering he didn't have a mirror in this room. "Good?"

"Good." Samson's head bobbed up and down. "How do you know they escaped?"

"Says so." Eric moved to the book and flipped it so the last page shone out. "It says few survived Tarvril's slaughter. Few. That means some did."

"But there's no way for us to find them."

"No." Eric shook his head. "But I have a plan to draw them out." He moved to the door, hesitating for a moment. "I'd like your support in it."

"I support you in everything, Sir," Samson said, his brows popping up. 

"Unless it's unwise, which this may be." Eric straightened. "Let's go greet the nobles."

#

Eric stood at Bainon's left side and a step back, Narissa at the king's immediate right. For the better part of three hours they stood, smiles fixed on the king and queen's faces, a look of indifference on Eric's as they greeted the noble families arriving for court.

There were at least a dozen families at court at all times, being the nobles of Osha, but every year the nobles from all the cities and towns in Braskey would descend upon the castle for a month's merrymaking. Usually the found an occasion - someone's wedding or a birth announcement. This year, it was the coming out of the young ladies in the western towns who had not yet been to court. 

Eric, by sheer coincidence of course, managed to miss nearly every year by being on assignment. The Osha Unit Lieutenant almost always took his place, for he far outshined Eric in social graces. Had he been paying attention and not so consumed with his new markings and revelations, Eric would have found a way to leave before it happened.

No such luck.

His attention only piqued when Tomas Truso, Abigail's father, and his wife were announced. They entered alone, faces drawn and set. Eric could feel the waves of hatred flowing from them, even as they bowed before the king and queen, their mouths denying what screamed so loudly from their hearts.

You stole our Abigail.

Eric waited for Tomas to meet his gaze, to tell him what he knew, but to no avail. Abigail's father brushed past him without so much as a glance. Guilt wriggled in Eric's gut, reminding him that he'd allowed himself to be consumed by the book instead of going to visit the Trusos, to ease their pain.

He'd failed her.

"Mayor and Lady Leyera of Braskey. And presenting, for the first time, their daughter. Lady Aundreya Priscilla Leyera of Braskey."

Eric's head snapped around, fully attentive as the Leyeras moved forward.

"Your majesties," Mayor Leyera said, dipping into a deep bow. "Might I introduce my only daughter, Aundreya." 

He shifted, revealing her behind him. She remained unchanged, almost identical to the sister he'd seen in the Pass all those months ago now. Her dark eyes were alight with mischief and hunger, flicking from Narissa to Bainon. 

"It's an honor, your majesties." She dipped into a curtsy, her crimson dress pooling out against the black tile like freshly spilled blood.

"Lady Aundreya, a pleasure." Bainon took her hand and kissed it, but Eric saw Narissa's calculating gaze assessing the girl.

"Lovely," she said, reaching out and gently placing her hand against Aundreya's pale cheek. 

Eric had never realized it before, but the similarities between them sent a wave of dread through him. 

"I think I shall make you my special pet," Narissa said, drawing Aundreya closer. "You remind me of, well, me. And vanity must always be allowed in a queen, mustn't it?" 

An electric buzz seemed to fill Aundreya at these words, the hunger in her eyes intensifying as she curtsied again. Eric fought hard to swallow, glancing at Samson just behind him, who stared straight ahead, though his fists were clenched.

"I am at your service, my queen," Aundreya said, gaze flickering to Eric for a moment. "I feel as if I've come home."

Told you Aundreya wasn't done yet!

Who is shocked? Who is NOT HAPPY? Who is loving the fact that this is going to cause some DRAAAAAAAAAMAAAAAAAAAAAAA in the castle?

Also, what do you make of Castor and Altair's conversation? Or Castor's confession? Tell me now and I'll see you Monday! Do you want to see what happens next in court or do you want to jump back to Phoenix?