She had been in this world for less than a day and already Sam had nearly died more times than she ever had in the rest of her twenty five years of life. She had been held at sword point by multiple men, nearly fallen out of this dumb tree, and she had felt the hot breath on her legs when the monster had almost gotten her. She was exhausted and sore just about everywhere and giving up would have been so easy. But Dorothea's shouts of encouragement had pulled her through and now she was huddled high in a tree, mostly out of danger. She hoped.

Dorothea called the creature a Jockal and in light of everything that had and was happening Sam fixated on one aspect that was humorous to her. "Me a maiden?" She smiled slightly and let out a nervous laugh, her eyes still half shut and her body still gasping for breath. "What a hilarious joke." She heard Dorothea purring and Sam forced her eyes to open all the way as she looked up at the cat perched above her. When she suggested that she move up the tree a bit more, Sam let out another nervous laugh as her arms wrapped around the trunk more tightly. "I think that if I move another muscle I'll fall." Either she'd die from the fall and the monster would eat her broken body, or she'd survive the fall and be conscious when the monster ate her broken body. "Amazing. My first time out of town in years and a monster tries to eat me. This is why I don't take vacations."

Sam made herself peer down to the forest floor and felt her stomach churn when she saw the Jockal circling the tree and leering up at her with it's unsettling eyes. She could practically see it's mouth watering as it looked at her and she looked away, squeezing her eyes shut before gazing up at the branches above her. "Oh why can't it go find an actual maiden to eat?" she lamented, trying to mask her fear with words. She supposed she was talking to Dorothea but mainly the words were for herself. "This is the worst day of my entire life. Tell me what I did that made me deserve any of this."

Unable to look away from the thing trying to eat her for very long, Sam gazed down and spotted the Marshal peeling off pieces of her armor. His lackeys had abandoned him by now, but the creature only seemed to have eyes for her. It wasn't flattering. The man was now free of his heavy armor and dressed in normal (normal for this place at least) clothes. Even from this height Sam could see how much the lack of armor had shrunk him. He was still for a while as the Jockal circled the tree, then she watched has he raised his sword and swung it down onto the creature's tail, The sound it made nearly startled her enough to send her falling. It had been an ear-splitting shriek and she shivered throughout the duration of it. Then she saw the Marshal running off and, unbelievably, the Jockal abandoned the attempts to devour her as it crashed through the forest in pursuit of him.

Sam watched it as it smashed through trees with wide eyes and a gaping jaw, then glanced up at Dorothea. She couldn't stop herself from letting out a relieved and breathless laugh as she heard the creature bounding farther and farther away. "Are you okay?" Sam asked her once she got her breath back. She glanced down towards to ground and grimaced. "Oh...man. Is now a bad time to tell you that this is the first time I've ever climbed a tree?"

Dorothea lighted on the branch that Sam was sitting on, and she paced urgently. "Come on, there's no time to be afraid -- you'll have plenty of time to worry once you've reached the ground." Her logic wasn't exactly flawless, but she wasn't sure what else to do. "That thing could be back any minute, and all you need to do is to get down, come on now, you can do it." Her tail swished uneasily. This was like babysitting her little cousins -- and Dorothea was never very good with children. She glanced out at the way the Jockal had gone, imagining that its toothy maw would reappear any second. She very suddenly had no desire to waste time coddling.

She stood rigid on the branch, glaring meaningfully up at Sam. "Keep your eyes open," she snapped. "Shift your weight completely onto the branch, grab it with your arms, and swing your legs down to the next one. Think of nothing but balance -- all you need to do is balance, and they're rather thick branches, you should have no trouble. Children do this several times a day without so much as a scrape, and I'm sure you can get out of a tree by yourself. Now Get. Down. Now! Or I will leave you behind to be eaten!"

With a little hiss she sat down and watched Sam menacingly, sometimes glancing away to check whether the beast was coming back.

Dorothea began to snap at her, and Sam gazed at her incredulously as she wondered where that outburst had come from. It was probably a good thing though, since she was distracted from her uneasiness about the height. The cat began to give her directions, a bit more forcefully than what Sam thought was necessary, and she finished by threatening to leave her behind and then sitting to glower at her.

Sam was still for a moment as she gazed at the cat in shock, then she made a face of her own. "Okay," she responded in a defensive tone. "Alright, I'm going. Jeeze..." She shifted her weight and raised herself into a crouch in preparation for her descent. She looked down to find the branches below and took a breath. "Okay, I'm going," she said to herself. Dorothea had been right about one thing. Children did this everyday. She could surely figure this out.

Keeping in mind what Dorothea had said about balance, Sam lowered herself onto the branch below her. She kept her focus on her hands and feet rather than the distance to the ground, and she tried to move as swiftly as she could. It wasn't as quick as when she had climbed up the tree but it wasn't as slow as she could possibly go, either. She found that it was a bit like climbing down a ladder. She still had to be careful but it wasn't as hard as she had made it out to be. But it was only when she finally dropped from a low hanging branch back to the earthy ground that Sam allowed herself to relax. Only slightly, though. The Jockal could still come back.

"Okay, I'm down now," Sam said as she looked up at Dorothea. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked a little annoyed despite her relief at being out of the tree. "You know you didn't have to yell at me up there."

"Why are you standing still!" Dorothea shrieked. She leaped off the lowest branch, sailed over Sam's shoulder and landed in a heap of dead leaves. She shuffled through them until she was able to clamber onto a fallen log, and she resisted the uncomfortable urge to lick her fur. "The Jockal or the Marshal will be back any moment, There's no time to be polite. RUN."

The princess chose the direction of the castle she'd seen from the top of the tree, and she bounded ahead, tail high. "If you are still when you should be moving as quickly as possible -- if you continue to do nothing unless you are told -- I promise I will yell until I am hoarse," she called, breathless, her voice bouncing every time her paws hit the ground. "I am in no position to help you otherwise. Yelling is the only thing I am currently capable of." She was very, very perturbed now. Not only was she a cat, far away from home, running from her own stepmother and a very dangerous man who had once been a friend, she had to somehow make sure this young woman didn't walk off a cliff. The gravity of her situation was crashing down on her, she'd nearly died several times, her friends didn't even know she was gone, her stepmother was even more horrid than she'd ever expected. She had no idea what to do or how to solve any of it, but she had to try, she had to keep going, no matter what. Dorothea needed help.

She didn't dare look behind her, even to see if Sam was following -- but the Marshal was on his way back toward the tree, making his slow way through the debris left by the Jockal.

There was more shrieking on Dorothea's part and though Sam could see her point about why standing still was a bad idea she still had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Mostly it was just a front to disguise how foolish she felt, but never in her life would she had ever expected to get scolded by a cat. "Was just waiting for you, your highness," she responded, "Seeing how I have no idea where anything is or what direction to run in."

She started to run after Dorothea as the cat dashed off and continued to lecture her. She didn't feel like bickering with the only thing in this entire world that she shared a sort of friendship with, but she wasn't able to stop herself. "Look sorry that you're a cat, but maybe you haven't noticed that I'm a little out of my element as well. Sorry that I'm new at monsters and men with swords and magic and everything. Sorry that I don't know what to do. Sorry that I don't think yelling in a forest filled with things that'll kill us is a good idea. Sorry that you're stuck with me."

Sam glanced behind her, and nearly tripped in the process, but she didn't see any sign that the monster had started chasing them again. She supposed they might hear it coming if it did. But there was something else out there looking for them, smaller and quieter. Unless he had gotten eaten instead. "Are we still going in the right direction?" she asked Dorothea between breaths. She was trying to keep up as best she could, but Dorothea was smaller and faster. Not that Sam felt like asking her to slow down and risk getting yelled at again.

Dorothea didn't respond for awhile. She rushed ahead, almost violently tackling her way through sticks and leaves. She had to control herself. How was she to lead a country if she couldn't even lead one person -- if she broke down so completely under pressure, so that she was willing to leave an innocent life behind? What kind of a person did that make her -- how was she any better than the Marshal?

"I owe you an apology," she said quietly, even while she moved ahead. She suppressed a thousand buts -- but Sam was older than Dorothea was, but Dorothea was merely a cat, but she couldn't save someone six times her size -- because Dorothea was above criticism, because her father and Liam were counting on her to keep her head. "Please keep an eye out for danger. We need to find somewhere safe --"

She cut off when she noticed movement behind a tree just ahead. Dorothea's ears flattened, and she stopped suddenly in the leaves, but she didn't try to run away. It was clear -- painfully clear -- that running was and always had been the wrong answer. She sat down, and she raised her head high. She was royalty. She had to continue reminding herself of that.

The Marshal stepped out into their path. His armor was still gone, his sword was sheathed, his clothes were torn and spotted with blood -- he'd gotten a little too close to the Jockal's claws, but it was only a scrape. He stood quietly, and he first glared clear and steady at Sam, then lowered his eyes to the princess at his feet. He let out a breath, frowned, and shook his head. "Don't make me chase you. It's over."

They ran in silence for a while, and Sam tried not to focus on her annoyance with Dorothea. She felt a bit bad about being so short with her, her one friend and the one person she related to in this world. She reminded herself that she wasn't the only victim here. Sam hadn't asked for any of this, but neither had Dorothea. Both of them had been thrown together into this impossible, overwhelming situation. When Dorothea had said in a small voice that she needed to apologize, Sam felt her irritation begin the slip away. She couldn't alienate herself from this girl. "Yeah. I probably owe you one, too." Dorothea had been in the middle of asking her to look out for any danger when she suddenly went quiet. Sam glanced down and saw that the princess had come to a halt and was sitting there on the ground.

Sam stopped, slipping a bit on the leaves, and looked back at Dorothea with raised eyebrows. "What is it, why have you...oh..." She had turned her head to look ahead and saw that the Marshal was standing on the path in front of them. He hadn't changed back into his armor and he looked ragged and bloody. Sam glanced at his injury and grimaced. It wasn't life threatening but she hadn't seen such large claw wounds up close before. She met his gaze as he glared at her and her own expression went stony. Then he looked down at Dorothea and declared it was over.

He was alone, his cohorts no where to be seen, and he looked so much smaller without all of that armor. But he was still dangerous, she had seen it on his face, and he was armed. Maybe they could outrun him, they were both smaller. But he wasn't weighed down by metal and he probably knew the forest better. "Where are your friends?" Sam asked quietly as she watched him warily and stepped back closer to Dorothea. "Those men that just left you there to be eaten? And speaking of what happened to the thing? The Jockal?" She eyed his wounds again. "Is it dead or...is it still out there?" It seemed so unlikely that he had killed it on his own, and she remembered how ravenously it had attacked her. Sam doubted that she'd ever forget the hunger in those glowing red eyes as it had looked at her.

August studied the girl a moment, stonily, if only to take his time with an answer. He wouldn't have answered at all, if his guards had been near him -- but while he was here alone there was no one to impress, no one to demand respect of, no one to take word back to the Queen. However Narissa hears of this, it will be grim.

"I had made it back to the Queen's hollow," he explained in a crisp voice. "The other two had ... already closed themselves in the dungeon." There was a twitch in his expression: despite his best efforts, those men were beyond hope of ever being more useful than common janitors. "I found a spirit bottle -- like the one that had broken when you arrived. I threw it into the Jockal's open mouth and it bit down. It's probably still snapping at ghosts. I think it'll forget about you before it's done, but I suggest you refrain from raising your voice."

He looked down at the cat, which remained silent. "I'll escort you back to the dungeon, where you are to await the Queen's further decision." He gestured with his head. "Walk in front. Both of you."

Dorothea paused awhile, but finally she stood up, and she turned around and padded back through the leaves toward the place they had just escaped from, her tail held high and dignified.

August glanced at the sky. It was getting darker, and he didn't have a light.

Sam watched him as he explained what he had been up to since the monster attacked. She restrained herself from smiling at the thought of the Tweedles barricading themselves into a dungeon. Shockingly enough she was not very fond of the men who had seemed so eager to cut her throat. She maintained an expressionless face even when she felt a relief wash over her that the monster was too distracted to continue hunting her, and raised an eyebrow at him. "You think? Now that's reassuring."

He ordered them to start walking and Sam glanced down at Dorothea to see her motionless for a while. Surely there was something else they could do, something else that could help them escape. She wasn't sure what it could possibly be but there had to be. They had not gone through everything that they had in the last hour only to be caught and taken back and thrown into a dungeon. But Dorothea just turned after a moment and started walking back in the diction of the run down fortress.

Sam closed her eyes, trying not to let the defeat show on her face, before looking back at the Marshal for a brief moment. She gritted her teeth as she resisted the urge to run up and slap him, before turning around, as well, and walking after the cat. Her fists were clenched at her sides as she walked and she refused to turn her head to look back at the man. Instead she looked down at Dorothea in front of her, walking as tall as she could with pride. Sam wished she could imitate that sort of royal dignity, but she had no royal blood to draw from. Besides she was too angry to fake pride and dignity.

~~~

Elsewhere Prince Liam of Itelia was bent low over his horse as he galloped down the path. He could hear the beating of two horse's hooves on the stones and knew that his steward and close friend Will was directly behind him. But he didn't look back to check. He only had eyes for one thing: Eldonia's central city, positioned at the direct center of the entirety of the Five Kingdoms. He watched as the castle and the city grew nearer, but it only made his heart race faster.

Dorothea hadn't been expected in Itelia until the next day, but that morning he had decided to rise out to meet her and her escorts on the road. He thought it would have been a nice way to surprise her, and so with his father's blessing he had set off with Will. But when they had gotten to the place on the road where Dorothea and her party should have been it had been deserted. So they had rose a bit further, with Will assuring him that they might have been moving slower than expected. Or something completely innocent that was just causing a minor delay. Liam was sure he had been right, that there was nothing to worry about. But the further they went the more abandoned the road had been. He had urged his horse on faster and faster until they came upon a disaster: what remained of Dorothea's traveling party.

The escorts and guards had been murdered, their bodies strewn across the road. Some of the horses were dead, as well, and the ones that had survived loitered in scene of the massacre. At the side of the road the carriage had been overturned. He had run over to it within a heartbeat. But there had been no sign of Dorothea.

They had reached the gate of the central kingdom's central city and the guards, their vision impaired by the darkening sky, called out for him to identity himself and his business. It didn't take much longer for them to recognize him and they began calling for the gates to be opened, that Prince Liam of Itelia had arrived to see the king. Once the gates were opened Liam and Will spurred their horses on words, up the street to the castle. In his fist Liam was clenching the one clue he had found at the massacre, pulling from a dead man's hand. It was a shred of cloth, ripped from a solider's uniform, that bore the crest of the eastern kingdom of Verinia.

The Marshal noted the anger on Sam's face, and though his own expression was blank if not forbidding, he was glad for it. That distrust could keep her alive. Of anyone, this otherworlder was the most vulnerable, the most disposable, and the most dangerous to the Queen's plans.

And the Queen didn't know she existed.

The realization came over August gradually, in pieces of understanding. He stared at Sam as if she were the answer to a question he'd been asking for a thousand years. As far as the Queen knew, it was only Dorothea they had brought back through the mirror. The otherworlder wasn't meant to exist in these realms -- she could move anywhere without being missed or recognized. And she knew ... everything. Sam was, in effect, the most potent weapon against the Queen.

In these thoughts he was preoccupied, while the forest dimmed and the moon rose. There were so few leaves on the trees, and the moon and the crust of stars were so bright, that navigating their way back to the old fortress was nearly as easy as in the daylight.

The Jockal appeared to have gone: there was another trail of destruction leading away from the hollow, and no sound to indicate it was anywhere nearby.

The Marshal stepped ahead, and he opened the door for the Princess and the Otherworlder. Dorothea paused at the doorway, and she appeared to decide whether to attack the Marshal and run again. Even if she and Sam were able to subdue him to unconsciousness and take his sword, Dorothea could not expect Sam to wield the weapon, let alone protect them when (not if) the beasts of the forest attacked. If she were alone she could simply run and evade forever. She wouldn't leave Sam behind. Dorothea trotted elegantly through the door and into the fortress.

When Sam came to the door, August gave her an odd look -- not friendly, but thoughtful. He gestured for her to go in, and he followed, closing the door behind him.

He lit a few candles; a low yellow light cast flickering shadows on the wall.

The Marshal reached under a table and drew out a medium-sized animal cage. Dorothy balked. "You cannot be serious," she snapped. "How many squirrels have died in that cage?" The Marshal only opened the door and glowered at her pointedly, until the princess sighed and stepped daintily into the cage. He locked the door behind her, and she turned around with her tail pressed against herself, careful not to touch any of the wire. The Marshal shoved a stick of jerky through to her, and she gave him the ugliest, most hateful look before she stooped to nibble at it.

Then he picked up one of the candles, and he peered at Sam. "Hide yourself under that table, beside the cabinet. Don't make a sound. You'll get something to eat once I've dealt with one more thing." The two guards were still in the dungeon -- he had to get rid of them while ensuring the Queen never knew Sam was here.

Dorothea slowed in her chewing, and she stared curiously across at Sam -- and especially the Marshal.

Before she turned and started walking after Dorothea Sam noticed a slight shift in the Marshal's face. Before they had been gazing at each other with hard, stony expressions. Sam's expressionless face was masking her intense distaste for the man and she had no idea what he was truly feeling. Though she guessed he couldn't have felt particularly warm about her. But then he was looking at her as though he was seeing her clearly for the first time and it made her shift a bit uneasily before she turned and started back towards the old fortress.

She could practically feel his eyes as they walked and it made her shiver sightly. It didn't help that night had fallen and though the pathway was clear do to the light from the moon and the stars it did not stop the cold. The chill bit through the sweater she was wearing and she folded her arms over herself as she walked. She'd have given anything for a jacket, but it wasn't as though she had been prepared to come here. She was lucky that she was wearing long sleeves and pants at all, and shoes as well. She imagined what it would have been like to run through the woods in her pajamas and bare feet and became grateful for her boots as leaves crunched beneath the soles.

They broke through the trees and came upon the fortress. Sam would have liked never to have seen it again and her gaze strayed over to the window they had escaped from. Not much longer than an hour had passed since she had jumped from there but so much had happened in that short amount of time. The Marshal moved in front of them as they reached the door and he opened it for them. After a moment of stillness Dorothea went in with all of the grace a cat could muster. There was surprisingly a lot. Sam looked up from Dorothea's tail to the Marshal and saw him looking at her strangely again. The only way she could think to explain it was that his eyes didn't seem as cold as they had before. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly as she looked at him questioningly, and then he gestured her forward into the old building. Sam complied without a word.

It was dark, especially after the door was closed behind them, and even though the Marshal lit some candles it didn't do much. Sam's eyes had to do a lot of adjusting to this level of lighting and silently swore to never take electricity for granted again. Nor indoor heating. She was still freezing. She watched as the man produced an animal cage, which Dorothea balked at initially but she didn't have much of a choice and it didn't take long for her to get inside of the thing. Sam looked up at the Marshal expectantly, waiting to be taken to her own cage. Which she assumed would be darker and colder than anywhere else in this place. But then he said something quite unexpected and it took a second for her mind to register what he had instructed for her to do.

"Excuse me?" Her gray eyes flickered over to the table he had told her to hide under, then to Dorothea in her cage, before looking back at the Marshal. "You're not taking me to the dungeon...or something?" Sam squinted her eyes slightly as she considered him for a moment and then sighed. "Okay. You're in charge." She went over to the table he had indicated, the one she'd barely noticed beside the large cabinet, and got down to crawl underneath. She looked back at him curiously. "You're serious about this?" Barely waiting for a response from the stoic man, Sam did as she was told and hid under the table. She sat there, shrouded in darkness with her arms wrapped around her kees as she stayed completely silent and breathed quietly through her nose.

~~~

Queen Narissa kept a calm, composed face as she practically glided down a hallway. But internally she was panicking and furious, had been since a man had knocked on her door and told her that Prince Liam had arrived at the castle and urgently needed to speak with her husband. Prince Liam was here? He was supposed to be in Itelia waiting for Dorothea's arrival tomorrow! If he was here now, had traveled on the road connecting their two kingdoms, then he had to have seen the scene she and her guardsman had left... He had to know that Dorothea was missing.

She hadn't been counting on the kingdoms realizing this fact until Dorothea failed to arrive in Itelia the next day. This didn't dent her plans, she could move quickly and recover from this, but it unnerved her. The boy had obviously tried to make some sort of romantic gesture for his love and discovered the abduction early. But it was night and too dark for any real search to begin. As long as she maintained her calm exterior (which would not be a problem) she would be fine here. Everything else depended on Marshal Derrick and him finding her stepdaughter.

Narissa had told the man to go fetch her daughter. Raquelle would be a shoulder for Liam to cry on, a support system for him when the bad news got worse in the upcoming days. And then they would be wed. Not that Liam had much choice anyway. There were no other princess of Eldonia to choose from. But it would be so much better if his future bride were there to comfort him after his childhood love was taken from him. Narissa almost rolled her eyes at the thought. This marriage arrangement between Liam and Dorothea wasn't simply an arrangement. Though the two had been matched by their fathers early on to ensure that Dorothea would be queen of her birth kingdom and Liam would be a king (he was the second son and couldn't be the king of Itelia), Liam had actually gone and fallen in love with her. Narissa had seen it in his eyes. He didn't care about the kingdom or the crown. He only cared about Dorothea. Which would make matching him and Raquelle so much more challenging than it had to be.

She descended down a staircase to the entrance hall, long gold waves falling to her waist and her ice blue eyes picking out the prince and his steward in an instant. "Prince Liam!" Narissa feigned concern as she paused at the last step. "We were not expecting you. Shouldn't you be in Itelia waiting for Dorothea to arrive tomorrow?"

Liam looked at the queen, trying not to rouse alarm. He wanted Dorothea's father to know first. "That's why I'm here, your Grace. I must speak with your husband immediately. Where is he?"

"He should be here at any moment, please come this way." Narissa led the two young men into a chamber, furnished with velvet chairs and a fireplace that filled the room with warmth. "Please sit. make yourselves comfortable. The king should be here soon."

Will sat, but Liam wasn't able to. He paced in front of the fire as he clutched the scrap of cloth in his pocket.

The Marshal stood watch for a moment, just to be sure Sam would stay silent and hidden -- just to be certain the room appeared to be empty except for the unhappy princess' cage. When he was satisfied he took up a candle in one hand and descended purposefully into the dungeon.

Dorothea smacked her mouth; would it have killed the Marshal to leave her a bowl of water and a pillow? "That archway goes straight to the castle," she told Sam quietly, meaningfully. "But the Queen is probably just on the other side." Crossing the forest -- in her condition, and with Sam's lack of experience -- had proven impossible without escort. Unless they could find some help from the natives or the bandits -- or even the fairies -- that archway was their best option. Dorothea's ears flicked back; the Marshal's voice was echoing up the stairs, but distant.

"Get out, both of you," the Marshal was saying. He swung the dungeon door open and waited for the tweedles to scuffle their way into the hall. "While you were cowering I captured the cat myself." He slammed the door behind them, and three sets of footsteps trundled up the stairs.

One of the guards -- bloody-nose -- piped up: "What about the girl?"

"The Jockal was busy chewing on her while I grabbed the cat," the Marshal responded immediately, as if it had obviously been the plan all along to feed Sam to the monster as a distraction. The two guards shuffled into the room, stiff from sleeping in their armor, a little bit heartbroken at the loss of their chance to skewer the otherworld girl -- but soon they were distracted and grinning at the sight of Dorothea hackled in her cage. They poked their fingers at her, and the Marshal shoved them toward the archway with a deep scowl.

"Go inform the Queen that we've completed our mission," he barked. The guards did not like this idea at all -- they fidgeted and announced it was too late to bother the queen, that it should wait til morning -- but the Marshal only had to raise himself a little taller and give them a certain deadly look before they consented to straighten their uniforms, comb their fingers through their hair, and march one after the other into the archway. One after the other, they disappeared.

The moment they were gone, the Marshal swung his candle toward the dark corner by the table and snapped his fingers. "You -- otherworlder, whatever your name is, get up," he growled. "Follow me, quickly." They had minutes, tops, before the Queen arrived to see the caged princess. He could only hope she was otherwise preoccupied for the moment.

The Marshal led the way back through a narrow hallway, then out along the edge of a small courtyard. He stopped at a wooden door, threw it open, and shoved the candle into Sam's hands. "Stay here until I come for you. Don't open the door for anyone else. The Queen cannot know you're here, do you understand?" He watched her in deathly seriousness.

---

It wasn't long before King Tommen arrived in the doorway with Raquelle on his arm. The King was a skinny man, with a gray cast to his black hair and an everlasting smile in his dark eyes, so like his daughter's. He was draped in bright and intricately embroidered silks that made him look even smaller than he was. "Prince Liam!" he called with an easy smile. "We weren't at all expecting -- but what is the trouble, my young man?" His expression fell to worry at the look in Liam's eyes, and he patted Raquelle's hand. "Dorothea was only on her way to see you."

Raquelle -- as fair and beautiful as her mother -- curled her fingers at her mouth, and she stared at Liam with tear-filled eyes. It was a pretty and perfect imitation of empathy.

Sam watched as the Marshal took a look around the room for a moment before it seemed to meet his approval and he left. She remained quiet even though the room was empty beyond Dorothea and her. But she didn't know how quickly the Marshal would return. But why was he having her hide beneath this table? She didn't understand.

She spared the archway a glance when Dorothea whispered what it was to her. Another gateway of sorts. Though not as limited as the one that had brought her here. She glanced over to where the thing hung on the other wall and felt a clench in her stomach. Home laid on the other side of that reflective surface. She should have just been able to step right through it and she could be safe again. All of this would be behind her. But the doorway was shut until her world's next full moon. She had no idea how long that would take on this side. And so the mirror was just a normal old mirror again. Her home felt so close but she knew that she was further away than ever.

She started to hear voices through the doorway that the Marshal had left from and she focused on listening. The Marshal was speaking to someone, two someones, and she realized he must be talking to his henchmen. He told them that he had captured the cat, and one of the men (the one with the broken nose she assumed) asked about her. Sam didn't breath until she heard the Marshal's answer. His lie. He told them that the Jackal had eaten her and she forced herself not to make a surprised noise. Why was he lying?

The men entered the room and stared gleefully at Dorothea in the cage. They didn't have long to taunt because the Marshal ordered them through the archway to get the queen. Sam felt herself shiver slightly at the thought of seeing the woman who had caused all of this, a woman who sounded worse than any wicked witch or evil stepmother in any of the fairy stories she had been told as a child. The guards were hesitant as well, but the Marshal gently persuaded them. He was, after all, so great with people. She watched the the two guards walked under the archway and vanished in front of her eyes. She closed her eyes and stifled a moan. She'd never get used to magic.

She heard fingers snapping and the Marshal speaking to her in his gruff voice. She grimaced when he called her "You," "Otherworlder," and the ever so popular "Whatever Your Name Is," and when she got out from beneath the table and stood up she looked at him with an annoyed expression. He instructed her to follow him and she did so, though not happily. "Sam," she told him sourly as she followed him down a hallway and into a courtyard, "My name is Sam. Not that you ever bothered to ask before, you know, kidnapping me or holding a knife to my throat."

They stopped outside of a wooden door, which he opened before shoving the candle he was holding into her hand. He gave her more instructions, to wait in the room until he came back and to only open the door for him. He said that the queen couldn't know she was here. Sam gazed at him as though he weren't making sense, but when he asked if she understood she nodded. "Yeah. I understand." She moved into the doorway but before entering the room completely she turned to look at him, searching for answers in his eyes but coming up with nothing. "Why are you doing this? You hid me from those men and told them that I was dead. And now you're hiding me from your queen? I don't get it."

~~~

Everyone stood respectfully when the king entered the chamber with his stepdaughter. Narissa glided over to her husband, and touched his cheek as though affectionate before moving to her daughter's other side.

Liam bowed to the man who had known since childhood, one of his father's closest friends and allies. The man always had a twinkle in his eyes like he was smiling, and Liam had always liked that. He had been happy to know that he was going to join this man's family and felt honor bound to care for the kingdom and the daughter of this man he respected so much. But he knew that what he was going to say might extinguish that light.

"King Tommen. And Princess Raquelle." He nodded at Dorothea's stepsister respectfully. "I am so sorry, I would not have come so abruptly or so late if it wasn't..." He suddenly did not know what to say. There was a knock that interrupted him and the door opened.

One of the servants looked nervously in. "Queen Narissa?"

"What is it?" Narissa maintained a civil expression, despite her annoyance, and the servant said that two of the guards needed to speak with her. "Can't they see I'm...oh." She saw the two guards who had been with the Marshal looking for Dorothea lingering in the hallway. This couldn't wait. She looked over at her husband, daughter, and guests. "I am so sorry, but I must leave you now. Something has come up and needs my full attention. Do forgive me, Prince Liam." The prince was able to do was nod and she smiled before looking at her husband and daughter. "I am so sorry, Tommen. Raquelle, please stay with your father in my absence." She gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead and shared a smile with her before leaving the room.

She swept up the staircase without pausing and the guards had to follow. They did not stop until they had reached the privacy of her quarters. Then she turned to gaze the the two men. "Did the Marshal locate my stepdaughter?" She didn't need to hear the answer, it was written all over their faces. A wave a relief washed over her and her lips spread into a terrible little smile. "Excellent." The plan was all coming together, despite the minor hiccup of Liam alerting everyone a bit early.

The queen went immediately to the secret door and it slide open with the touch of one of the stones. Not even looking back so see if her guardsmen were following her, Narissa strode through the archway and appeared in her hollow. She didn't look for the Marshal to see if he was in the room or not as she only had eyes for one thing. She saw the cat in the cage on the table and the smile got wider. She approached the table and bent down slightly to peer through the wire at Dorothea. "Did you enjoy your trip to the other side, my dear?"

~~~

After Narissa had left Liam looked over to the king and felt his tongue go heavy. He knew what he had to tell the man, but how was he supposed to say it. After a long moment he finally said, 'King Tommen, you might want to sit for this." After the king either sat or continued to stand, Liam paced for a moment, trying to find the words. "This is about Dorothea, King Tommen. I decided to ride out and meet her and her escorts early today, as they weren't expected until tomorrow and I thought it would be a pleasant surprise for her. And, well, there was no one on the road. Not where they should have been at that point in the journey from your kingdom to mine. And so we traveled further and further and found nothing until..."

He looked over at Will, who looked grim but nodded for him to continue. It had to be done. Liam looked over at the king and gathered up his courage. "We found them. What was left of them. The escorts were all dead and the carriage had been overturned. And I looked everywhere but I couldn't find her, Your Grace. There was no sign of Dorothea." Liam drew the scarp of cloth he had found at the scene out of his pocket and held it clenched in his fist for a moment. The he opened his palm and offered it to King Tommen so the crest of Verinia was completely visible to everyone in the room. His words were quiet. "We found this. In one of the escort's hands."

August gripped the door handle, poised to slam it, only Sam was standing in the way. Asking questions. Shouldn't she be afraid for her life? Shouldn't she do as she's told with her head down and her mouth shut, as anyone with half a brain would do when faced with his heartless reputation? He set his jaw, and anger flared just for a moment. No, she wouldn't understand. That was the point.

He took a long breath, and he glanced back toward the room where the Princess was kept. A shadow of a snarl crossed his face, and he glowered at Sam.

"There's very little nowadays that the queen doesn't know," he hissed sourly. "You're an anomaly." He was giving her that curious look again, guardedly thoughtful -- but he shut it down again, and his eyes were cold. "The minute the queen knows you exist she'll have you executed. She'll have me execute you," he clarified, distinctly. "And I will have you kneel, and I will make a clean cut of your head from your shoulders in front of her," he moved slightly closer, his voice low, "if you don't do as I say."

He stepped back again, paused a moment, and held the handle of a hunting knife out to her. He watched her carefully, wondering whether she really would use it against him. "Don't let anyone in but me."

He looked annoyed at her questions and about ready to bit her head off. Sam stood her ground though, gazing unflinchingly into his glaring eyes. He almost begrudgingly answered her question, and for a moment he was giving her that look again, the one from the woods and from the door. The look that unnerved her more than his cold glare. It was gone, though, and she wondered if she had imagined it.

He explained in a less than happy tone. The queen, who apparently knew all, had no idea she existed. If she ever did Sam would be executed by the Marshal. He took a moment to describe what would happen if she were to be executed, probably to scare her into compliance. He moved closer to her and Sam stopped herself from backing away or from adverting her gaze from his icy eyes. The queen would have him cut off her head unless she did what he told her.

She didn't understand him. After everything he had done to her he was suddenly trying to hide her away? After threatening to slice her to pieces he was now trying to prevent the queen from executing her keep her existence hidden so the queen wouldn't execute her? Sam was considering him with slightly narrowed eyes as he offered her the handle of a knife. It made her eyebrows raise and she looked back up at him. He was going to trust her with a knife? He repeated the instruction to not open the door for anyone except for him and for a moment she was still. She could just take the knife and try to attack him and run. But she eliminated that idea almost immediately. He was probably prepared for that outcome. And if she did run she might run into the queen. Was he really hiding her from that woman? He had hid her from the two guards only minutes ago. Two men who had been itching to kill her. Did she really believe he was trying to keep her alive?

Sam heard herself speak before she realize she had come to a decision. "Fine." She reached out and took the knife with her right hand and held firmly to the candle with her left. She turned and entered the room before looking back at him in the open doorway. She still had a curious look in her eye. She had decided she didn't fully trust him and if he attacked her she'd at least be ready to defend herself. But what she really didn't want was to risk running into the queen. She had fully believed him when he had told her the queen would order her head chopped off as soon as she knew Sam existed.

The Marshal quietly closed the door on Sam's candlelight. "Fine," he muttered under his breath; if he never heard that word again it would be too soon. He rolled his eyes, laid his hand on his sword and returned along the courtyard, back to the front room. He stopped in his tracks, breathless, when he heard the voice of the queen. He stifled a swell of hatred.

Dorothea was sitting regally, her eyes sarcastically half-closed as she stared through the queen. The princess refused to acknowledge her stepmother's existence, let alone stoop to respond to her questions. There was nothing Dorothea had to say to her.

The Marshal stepped in quietly through the back door, and he stood at attention behind Dorothea's cage to await further orders. Surely the queen trusted him completely, now. He was after her plans -- her next steps, what was happening at the castle, where the King fit into all this. He'd done everything to be indispensable to her.

---

The King sat very still. He stared at that scrap of cloth -- that telltale insignia -- his lips parted and his brow furrowed. His always-cheerful eyes were glazed and shimmering. He gently took the cloth from Liam and he ran his thumb over it, imagining what must have happened, the battle, the horses, the men that took his Dorothea away.

"Why would Verinia --" He cut himself off and frowned, taking a breath to steady himself.

Raquelle, meanwhile, had slipped around to Liam's side, an arm around him in a half-embrace, a hand squeezing his arm. "How horrible," she said in a quiet, terrified voice. "How gruesome," she went on. "If there's anything I can do, anything at all, for you, Liam."

The King, meanwhile, was not satisfied. "This is an act of desperation," he breathed. "Why hasn't someone come to me? A messenger? a letter? What do they want?" Tommen remained very still while he thought, except for his fingers running over that piece of cloth.

Finally, he looked up, grave. "Liam, if you love her you won't do anything rash. War won't bring her back. I suspect this is an independent group trying to instigate tension. They won't succeed." He paused awhile longer, his eyes distant again in thought. When he looked at Liam again, it was in determination. "Take everything you need -- take supplies and men, take Derrick, he will support you -- go to Verinia and tell their king what you have told me. Make no assumptions. Do all you can and all you must to return her to her people. I will send a message ahead of you."

Narissa titled her head slightly as she looked at the cat. The girl was stubbornly silent, staring at her as though she didn't see her. It made no difference. Dorothea may not acknowledge her existence but she would listen. The Marshal entered the room and Narissa looked up at him, smiling. "Well I see that despite your previous mistakes you were able to make this up to me, Marshal. Well done. You have done everything I've asked and I believe you've proven your loyalty." She moved around the table, looking down at the cage as she passed it. "I'm afraid Prince Liam discovered Dorothea's disappearance a bit earlier than I had anticipated. He rode all day in order to reach Eldonia by nightfall. By now he has informed the King of what he discovered. That soldiers from Verinia have abducted the princess."

The queen looked down at the cage again. "He must truly love you, stepdaughter dear. I'm sure Raquelle will take good care of him for you." She looked back up at the Marshal. "Tommen won't declare open war until he's been given a firm reason to. As long as he believes his daughter is still alive he believes negotiations will bring her back. He'll send a party to Verinia's palace as soon as the sun begins to rise tomorrow, undoubtedly the prince will be with them. They'll be instructed not to make accusations to the king and queen. There isn't any proof that it was the royal family who instigated the abduction, after all." Narissa paused for a moment at the thought of the royal family of Verinia. Royal in the most basic of ways. The smallest of the Five Kingdoms, Verinia was the home of woodsmen and lakemen and the creatures that shared their wood and lake. Fairies, elves, trolls, giants, centaurs, merfolk, even a few dwarves, and so many others inhabited Verinia in more numbers than in any other kingdom. It was a strange place, so unlike the other kingdoms. There were no cities, no real wealth (the king and queen themselves were not much more than the commonfolk), and it was said that the magic of the land had originated there. You could feel magic in the air in Verinia, and it made the land and the people different. It was almost like another world in their own, although you didn't have to go through a special gateway to enter it.

"You must begin planting that idea in their minds. Fill them with doubt, make them hesitant to trust. Tell them that the people of Verinia are growing restless and envious of the wealth and civilization of the other kingdoms, even the king. That they feel trapped behind their borders, feel isolated and cut off and not trusted by the rest of the land." It wasn't entirely untrue. But she knew Verinia would never really antagonize the other kingdoms, despite their isolation and fragile alliances. But with the stressful situation of a kidnapped princess anything could happen. "They must accuse King Gregor and Queen Isabel. The prince must. And they will deny it of course. But when tensions run so high, anything might happen." She pressed a small mirror into his hand. "I will contact you with this and give you further instructions. And take her with you." She nodded towards the cage. "I can make it so Prince Liam won't be able to understand her." She had moved in Dorothea's line of vision again, holding a small vial with blue liquid. "But do your best to keep them away from each other regardless. I'll be in Eldonia, planting the same doubts in Tommen's mind. There will be a war, Marshal. Be sure to be back in the castle within the hour. I'd hate for you to be left behind." She hadn't told him everything, just the next few steps in her plan. There were still things she was keeping to herself, things she would reveal when the time was right. Narissa looked down at Dorothea. "I'll send your love to you father and fiance." She turned to walk back through the archway and back into Eldonia before pausing, as though remembering something. "Oh, and Marshal. Please send my love to my sister Queen Isabel." Then she disappeared under the archway.

~~~

Liam watched the man, hating himself for bringing this news to him but hating the men who had caused it more. He wasn't a hateful person. He was rather goodnatured in fact. Always quick to find a joke or the bright side of a situation. But after seeing the slaughter and the carriage and thinking about what Dorothea must have gone through... It made him clench his fasts to stop them from shaking. The thought of her alone and scared made him want to yell. But Liam pulled himself together. She was depending on him and he wouldn't get anywhere by losing his temper or jumping to conclusions or making angry accusations.

Raquelle had come up to him, and the feeling of her touch startled him. He looked at her beautiful face, so like her mother's, but he didn't feel any attraction. He liked her well enough, despite the fact that they always seemed to be pushed together and it made him uncomfortable the way she looked at him sometimes. Despite that he was always respectful, polite, and kind to her. But Liam knew that he could never love her. He loved Dorothea, probably always had. He wished it was Dorothea's touch he was feeling, her dark eyes he was looking at. He longed to make her laugh and to touch her soft hair... He never considered he might have been taking those experiences for granted. She was alive, out there somewhere. He knew it. And Liam swore to himself that he was going to find her. He became aware that Raquelle had spoken and quickly composed himself. "Thank you, Princess Raquelle," he said, managing a quick smile. "But I think King Tommen might need you more than I do."

The king was speaking to him and Liam looked away from the girl to give him his full attention. He was warned not to do anything rash and he nodded. "Your Highness, you know I would never do anything that would put her in harm's way." He was then given his instructions. It was so difficult to get to Verinia. The woods could be perilous, and isolation had made the Verinia unlike the rest of the kingdoms. But he had never thought any less of Verinians for that, and he didn't think King Gregor or his wife, Isabel, would do anything like this to risk severing their alliances with the other kingdoms. He bowed. "I swear to you, King Tommen. I will bring her back to her people. To you." And to me. "We can leave tomorrow at dawn. Will and I will work on the supplied and I'll have Marshal Derrick gather as many men as he is able. When I find him. Where is the Marshal?"

~~~

The only light Sam was left with when he closed the door was the flame from the candle he had given her. The room was small and empty. She moved over to one of the walls and lowered herself down to the ground. She was exhausted and cold and Sam didn't realize she was crying until she felt the warm tears sliding down her cheeks. She had subconsciously been holding back tears ever since she had arrived in this world. Sam hated crying in front of people. But now that she was alone there was no one to see. Setting the knife down on one side and the candle on the other, Sam leaned back against the wall and curled her knees up to her chest before folding her arms over them and burying her face in sleeves of her sweater.

"Very well, My Queen." The Marshal pocketed the mirror and stood stoically, rigid and fierce, the very picture of obedience and strength despite the bloody state of his uniform. He waited like this even after the Queen had gone, and Dorothea released her posture to turn on him, all fangs and bristled fur.

"She can't be serious!" the princess hissed, flexing her claws. "You can't be serious! To instigate a war with Verinia of all places -- with her sister. What could she possibly gain from this? What are you getting out of this, August Derrick? Is she paying you? Has she promised you the throne of Verinia? Do you hate us so much that you would destroy the five kingdoms for revenge?" She snarled when he only gave her a condescending look, and he turned to leave. "Derrick!" Dorothea shrieked at his back. "August Derrick, don't you walk away when I'm talking to you!" But August was gone, out the back door, and Dorothea thrashed against the side of the cage in desperate anger. She managed to move it just a little along the table.

August paused in the hall to collect himself. War with Verinia. He had been expecting some kind of corruption of Itelia in preparation for its acceptance of Raquelle as its queen -- but war with an outland country that had been nothing but peaceful? Where were the limits of her greed?

He set his jaw and screwed his eyes shut. He could follow her, strike her down with his sword, accept death in consequence for his crime -- but her witchcraft was still unknown to him. If he failed, he would not get another chance. If he gave Dorothea to her father, explained to him what had happened, Narissa would vanish to spread her corruption without boundaries or secrecy -- a greater enemy than one enclosed by secrecy and castle walls. No, August had to be certain. He had to remain in her confidence. He had to start a war.

There was one element in all this, however, that Narissa wasn't counting on. August paused at the door. He thought he heard the Otherworld girl sobbing. His expression turned grim. She would have to endure much more than this before long.

"Sam." He raised his gruff voice to be heard through the door. He wasn't sure how this girl was supposed to solve anything -- only that he had an instinctive knowledge that she would. Maybe if he could make her trust him --

His thoughts were cut off by a crashing and thundering at the front door of the fortress, like an elephant trying to kick it down. Dorothea screeched bloody murder. August snarled, shouted through to Sam "Stay where you are!" and he ran full-tilt back to the front room, wincing as he pulled his sword from its sheath, his wound reopened and trickling blood.

The front door exploded into a thousand pieces, blown apart by fire and gunpowder. Dorothea screamed again as pieces of wood and ash rained down on her cage.

In the next few minutes there was a scuffle, the rise of voices shouting, feet scuffling, blades clashing. There was a full-blown war in the front room, while the noise of the explosion rang in their ears. Something heavy hit the floor.

Then, silence.

All was hauntingly quiet for a few heartbeats -- and then, there were footsteps in the hall. Someone knocked low on Sam's door, gentle and uncertain.

"Miss?" came a strange, high voice. He cleared his throat. "Are you all right? We've come to rescue you."

Standing here at Sam's door was a small man: a dwarf, wearing a dashing feathered hat and a tasteful goatee. He waited with his little fist poised to knock again. His dwarfish accomplices -- a younger man and a feisty woman with a long ponytail -- kept daggered watch over the Marshal, who lay unconscious after taking a tranquilizer dart to the neck.

Sam heard her name being called through the door and raised her head. She recognized the rough tone, but it was strange hearing him use her name. She hadn't thought he had been listening to her angry rambling when she had told it to him. Sam hurriedly rubbed her eyes with her sleeves, trying to wipe the tears away as much as she could. She didn't want him or Dorothea to see. But for all she knew her crying had been loud enough that the entire fortress had heard. And while her cheeks might be dry her eyes were still red. He'd probably notice.

Sam got to her feet, picking up the knife and candle as she did and was about to open the door when she heard a crash. It made her jerk away from the door in shock and stumble back against the wall again. The candle had nearly slipped from her grasp and Sam felt her stomach churn out of fright. She could heard someone screaming, and she knew it was Dorothea. A part of her wanted to get out of this tiny room and go to her, but she heard the Marshal yell at her to stay before she heard his footsteps running off.

"No, hey! Wait! What's happening? Don't leave!" Sam shouted after him, even though he was probably long gone by the time she was finished. There was an explosion, which startled her again, and the sound of Dorothea's screaming. Sam pressed her ear against the wood, trying to hear everything, and only hearing muffled scuffling, shouting, metal clashing against metal. Like some sort of battle had broken out. But who was attacking? Sam thought she heard the thump of a body hitting the floor and then she heard nothing at all.

The silence seemed to echo in her ears and Sam hardly dared to breath as she stared at the door she was hiding behind. Then she heard footsteps and a small knock on the door. Her breath caught in her throat and she held the handle of the knife tighter as she imagined who it was. The Marshal? Or something worse. Sam heard a voice call out to her. It was small and high but undeniably male. He said he was here to rescue her.

The statement took a moment to register in her mind, and Sam stared at the door for a moment before approaching it. She took the handle in her hand before hesitating. The Marshal had told her not to open it except for him. But she didn't trust the Marshal and this person said he was rescuing her. But who would be here to rescue her? She didn't know anyone here, she wasn't even supposed to exist in this place. But Sam figured if the person on the other side really wanted to get to her, then sooner or later he would find a way. So Sam opened the door, looking directly across from her as she did so and seeing no one. Then her gaze lowered until she saw the little man standing there wearing his hat with the feather.

It was a sight so surprising to her that she was speechless for several long seconds.There were dwarves in this world, too. She felt like she shouldn't be surprised by this. But why would a dwarf be rescuing her? "Who are you?" Sam asked when she overcame her shocked silence. Her voice wary with uncertainty. "How'd you know I was in here?"

The dwarf cleared his throat again, rested a hand against his chest, and took a breath to speak -- but his sharp-eared female accomplice beat him to it, calling from the room down the hall.

"We saw you bein' hunted by that Jockal," she explained, even while she kept a dagger leveled at the Marshal's unconscious head. "And then we saw you bein' herded up by this one, and we knowed he's a minion of that damned witch --"

Feather-hat interrupted her by raising his voice, "-- and this is the witch's hideout. We've been watching her a long time, enough to know that it's bad news when a pretty girl like you is shut up in a place like this. I'm sorry we took so long. We couldn't risk facing the Marshal unprepared, and we'd had a bit of trouble with the explosives."

"You're tha one who busted the barrels!" the little lady huffed.

Feather-hat chose to ignore her. He took off his hat with a flourish to Sam, and he bowed. "But let me make introductions. My name is Alphonse. The lovely lady is my sister, Coralie, and big-nose over there is Florian."

Florian grinned sheepishly and gave Sam a shy wave. He was sitting sturdily on the Marshal's chest -- a fine job, for he was the biggest of the three.

Dorothea, having been let out of her cage, rubbed against Sam's legs and purred. She wasn't quite sure yet whether it was wise to speak in front of these hooligans -- they may still betray her to the queen, or assume her a witch, herself, and kill her. For now, she would trust Sam's judgment.

Alphonse cleared his throat again politely. "I would like to extend to you an invitation to supper. Since, really, the nearest civilization is a full night's journey on foot. You're bound to be hungry?" He grinned up at Sam, hopeful.

Coralie and Florian, assured that the Marshal wouldn't wake anytime soon, began gathering him up between them to carry. They had themselves a prisoner -- at least, they couldn't very well leave him to cause any more trouble.