The dark halls of black marble grew dank and moldy as they traveled lower, Altair leading the way. Phoenix followed through the strange blackness, holding tight to Altair's arm to keep from getting lost. Castor followed behind, keeping watch.

"We're getting close, I think," Altair said, turning her down another corridor. "There will be guards up ahead."

"How are we supposed to get past them?" Phoenix asked in a whisper.

"It'd be best if we could sneak past, but I think they'd notice our presence, even if they couldn't see us." Castor's voice hovered behind her, and Phoenix longed to have her sight back.

"We'll have to figure something out," Altair said, sounding a bit anxious. "I'm not one for violence."

"Luckily, I am," Phoenix said, nudging him with her elbow. "How many guards?"

"Four," Castor replied. Having watched over Eric all her brother's life, it only made sense that he'd know.

"I don't know if I can handle more than two at once," Phoenix said, thinking back to what little training she did at the Militia. Norman never managed to get to more than hand to hand combat with two adversaries, as Claire wasn't an experienced fighter to play a third attacker.

"Maybe we could each take one?" Castor suggested, sounding as uneasy as Altair. "Or maybe I could go and distract them, and the two of you could sneak by."

"And let them see you? No chance in hells," Altair said. "Our identities are our most sacred secrets. We'd all be in danger if we were seen."

"Finny doesn't seem to care," Phoenix said. "And I wouldn't mind knowing what you two look like."

"You'd be severely disappointed," Altair said, a smile in his tone. "We're not that exciting."

"But we're very handsome," Castor added.

"Well, I am, anyway," Altair said.

Phoenix chuckled, but a surge of pain shot through her abdomen and her knees buckled. With a gasp, she clung to Altair's arm. He braced her, pulling her back up to a standing position.

"What is it?" Castor hissed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. She's fine."

"She doesn't look fine!"

"We'll discuss it later. They're going to hear us." A clatter from beyond caused Altair to curse. "They've heard us."

"What's going on? What's wrong with her?" Castor didn't seem to care.

"Who's there? Are there four?" Phoenix asked. She sensed Altair peek around the corner.

He swore again. "Samson."

"What?" Phoenix and Castor said together, both surprised.

"If it's Samson, I can go speak to him."

"If he sees you down here," Castor said, he'll know what you're up to."

"He probably already does. That's why he'd be down here." Altair tugged her. "Are you going to be able to fight them off when he's out of the way?" Phoenix nodded, straightening as the pain passed. "Good. Castor, keep watch back here. Phoenix...go now."

He pushed her out into the hall. Three guards stood at the ready before a heavy wooden door. All three stared at her, dressed in her ballgown. The hallway leading the opposite direction lay empty - Samson already gone.

"Um, hi." She stepped closer to them, the fabric rustling around her ankles as she marched down the hall. "I'm looking for someone. Can you help me?"

"You're not supposed to be down here," the shortest guard said, casting a confused glance to his companions.

"Yes, but you see, I have to be down here."

"I don't think--"

"It's a matter of life or death," Phoenix said, an idea springing into her mind. "I saved the Queen and King today - surely you heard."

The chubbiest man straightened, puffing his chest out. "Yes, Lady Phoenix. Of course. But what does that--"

"The man who attacked them. I fear he has connections to other radicals in the city. I need to discover at once who he's working with."

The tallest, a young man who was already losing his hair, shook his head. "That's for the Army to handle."

"But he won't tell you. No matter how hard you torture them, these rebels continue to keep their mouths shut, yes?" When they looked uneasy, she continued. "Exactly. But they don't know I'm working for Commander Lee. This young man won't realize I'm here to get information."

"How won't he know?"

"I'm 'sneaking into' the dungeons. I'm 'here to help him.' He'll never know that I can use my gift against him."

"Which gift is that?"

"I can tell when someone is lying," Phoenix said. "And I'll be able to get him to tell me the truth."

The chubby guard considered her. "That would be helpful." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "And Commander Lee knows about this?"

"I'm going to tell him everything once I see him again," Phoenix said, not specifying which everything that would be.

"I still don't know," the tall man said. The other two shifted toward Phoenix. "Fine. But if we get into trouble, I'm saying you forced me."

"That's perfectly fine," Phoenix said. "You needn't worry about getting into trouble."

"You have ten minutes," the short guard said, then hesitated. "Is that enough?"

"I hope so. I don't want to be down here long." Phoenix shivered. "I'm missing the ball!"

The guards chuckled and opened the dungeon doorway. Phoenix slipped in, thanking them as she went.

The dungeons weren't what she expected. Despite the dankness of the surroundings, the interior was well lit with torches, allowing light into all the cells. Metal bars covered each cell, and while most were empty, Phoenix could see clean, comfortable looking bedrolls with adequate blankets.

Who treats their prisoners this well?

Phoenix shifted through and jumped as two beings appeared in front of her. Slapping Altair on the arm, Phoenix scolded them.

"You scared me!"

"Sorry," Castor whispered. "That was very impressive out there. I told you to keep your eyes open and be seen."

"Yes, and you also told her to go to a ball and put herself in danger," Altair snapped.

"I would never have told her to go to the ball. That was all her. I just told her to be seen. I meant in public. Not amidst the wolves. Not anywhere near Aundreya."

"Well sorry for trying to solve problems," Phoenix said, shuffling along the cells, peeking inside. "But I'm trying to save both of my brothers."

She let out a little yelp of surprise as a body shuffled beyond one of the metal prisons. A young man - a boy, really - stared up at her, eyes wide in the light emanating from Altair and Castor.

"Harold?" Phoenix asked, crouching down to his eye level as he sat. "That's your name, right? Harold?"

"How do you know that? What are you doing here?" His eyes widened. "You're the one who stopped me. You...you bi--"

"Now let's not be nasty," Altair said, cutting Harold off.

"Harold, I've been looking for you." Phoenix reached into the deep pockets of her dress and pulled out the sealed letter. "Your sister sent me with this. She wanted you to have it."

"Gwen?" Harold shifted, accepting the letter. "You know Gwen?" His surprise shifted into disgust. "She abandoned us."

"You and your parents?"

"Me and my mother. She left us." He tossed the letter back out at her. "I don't want to read some letter from her."

"She's not as unlike you as you may think," Phoenix said, picking up the letter. Part of her wanted to smack him - a fourteen or fifteen year old child with no idea what the world was like. "She's with the Militia now."

Harold snorted. "So? The Militia isn't doing anything. They aren't working fast enough. As long as Eric is alive, Bainon's line will continue. He needs to die."

Phoenix gritted her teeth, trying to keep her tone calm. "Eric Lee is none of your concern. Or at least he wasn't until you tried to kill him."

"And you stopped me."

"And I will keep stopping you and people like you for as long as I live." Phoenix looked down at the letter. "You don't want this? Fine. I'll read it to you." She broke the seal and unfolded it, clearing her throat.

"Dear Harold,

I know you don't agree with me - wanting to be a baker in a world of war - but it doesn't change how much I love you and mother. You want to make the world a better place, and I know you could be useful to the Militia. Please consider joining me - both of you. There's room for all of us here, and you could make a difference.

I hope my presence here won't keep you from coming. I may not live up to what you want me to be, but you're my brother. I sent this letter to you because I know mother wouldn't even open one from me.

Please, Harold, understand where I'm coming from. Join me. There are people in the Militia who want the same thing you do. They've found an heir, and I think he might actually have what it takes to be king.

I love you. I love mother. Come join me. You know the way.

Gwen'

Well, what an awful sister you have," Phoenix finished, rolling her eyes. "You poor thing."

"You don't know," Harold spat. "She's a weakling. She's rather hide than take a stand."

"She's part of the Militia, isn't she?"

"Not fighting. Not striving for the power she deserves." Harold shook his head. "It's time for Bainon and his heir to fall. It's time for a new family to rule - these Tremaines are done."

Phoenix stiffened. "And you think your family should rule? What makes you so special."

Harold didn't respond, turning his back on her. Phoenix changed tactics.

"Are you alone here, Harold? Are there others working with you, or do you function on your own?"

"My mother is here," Harold said, folding his arms. "I'm not some maniac. I don't just run around all by myself."

"Where is she? Maybe I could speak to her."

"Phoenix." Altair's voice caught her attention. "You're out of time."

Phoenix ground her teeth together and shoved the letter through the bars. "Keep this. Maybe it will remind you of decency."

She stood and turned toward the door, but paused. "Wait." She glanced over her shoulder, something tugging at her. "There's someone else here."

"They only have two people in their dungeons?" Altair asked, sounding surprised.

"The rest were executed."

Castor's remark sent a cold wash of dread over Phoenix as she turned the corner into another hallway of cells. When she reached the one at the end, she looked inside.

A woman lay there on her mat, her eyes closed. They flew open at Phoenix's arrival, and she lifted her head.

Phoenix didn't know her, didn't recognize her, but something about the woman compelled her.

"Who are you?" Phoenix asked at the same time as the woman.

Behind her, Castor leaned forward, whispering in her ear. "This is Tyrella Tremaine."

Boom. Phoenix found the dungeons, delivered the letter, AND FOUND TYRELLA TREMAINE! WHAT THE HECK!

Whatcha think of Harold? Of Gwen's letter? Of all of it? Tell me things.

Muah!