"Right, I'm off to the castle to make my report to Logan." He announced, and walked off. We heard Walter bid him goodbye. Ben and Vannery began glaring at each other.

"Been with anyone recently, Finn?" Vannery asked, in his snooty superior voice.

"Probably a damn sight sooner than you." Ben replied haughtily. I rolled my eyes.

"Now is not the time to settle petty scores. Now is the time to deal with someone." Walter admonished.

"Reaver. He's been bleeding the city dry for years. But now it's got desperate." I informed them.

"Reaver holds secret society parties every week. A small group of fighters smuggled themselves into his mansion. We haven't heard from them since."

"Fortunately, we know what two of the guests look like." I handed Vannery a package.

"These are for the masquerade ball." Ben Finn looked at me gleefully.

"Great! Where's my costume?" He asked.

"You're staying here."

"Oh, what?"

"Everybody out. I need to change."

"I'll stay here. Make sure no-one spies on you." Ben said slyly. Vannery glared at him and shoved him out the door.

"Like hell you will, blondie."

"Please don't let Mr Finn follow you." I warned Vannery. "I've had enough of him for one day." The boy nodded, winked and exited the room, leaving me to change.

I never thought pink would suit me. But standing in the glaring sunshine in Millfields made me realise that actually it suited me quite well. As Vannery rounded the corner with his dog, looking fairly dashing in his outfit, I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He was late.

"Sorry, the place is crawling with mercenaries." He said by way of apology.

"That outfit suits you. It brings out the colour in your eyes." I complemented, and he blushed slightly. "Shall we?" We walked inside the manor. A ginger butler greeted us.

"A bit late, aren't you? Most of the guests are passed out. All we've got left is fizzy pop."

"I'm sorry. We were…held up."

"That's no problem. Just give me the password."

"The…password…erm…"

"I'm just pulling your leg. I wasn't joking about the fizzy pop though. These lightweights drank the lot." Vannery's eyebrow quirked. "We've got cooking sherry left, if you fancy it. No? Don't blame you. Never touch the stuff myself-well, except in the mornings."

We walked on in a little silence, passing a man who was busy emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Then this man said something I hope never to hear again.

"I could set you up a nice orgy later, how's about that?"

"Just keep walking, you funny little man." I hissed. We reached a set of doors.

"Right, Master Reaver insists on no weapons in the ballroom. There have been a few accidents, you see."

"I'm afraid I need to keep mine. I'm here to find some friends." I said haughtily.

"Oh! You're the brave noble rebels." I cursed silently in my mind. "I SEE! I'm an oppressed proletarian myself! We're practically comrades." I very much doubted this, and it was in Vannery's face that he felt the same way. "If you just go through here, you can sneak past the others and rescue your fellow revolutionaries." We both knew he was having us on, but we both walked through the door anyway. Kidd in a cage met our eyes.

"There's one of my men! Kidd! Where are the others?"

"All dead!" He gasped. "You have to get out of here. NOW!"

Suddenly the cage began to rise.

"My, my, more bees here to steal Reaver's honey. So bold. So industrious. So bloody annoying. When will you learn to enjoy life?"

"I'll get him out." Vannery muttered, and began climbing the cage to try and pick the lock. However, it got too far off the ground, and he let go, landing perfectly on his feet. "Crap." I agreed with him.

"Now, we shall play a little game."

"You expect us to entertain you?" I yelled.

"You're full of spunk, aren't you? You must be lightning between sheets."

"REAVER! We won't entertain you!"

"It's only a game, my sweet." Said Reaver in a simpering voice. "I spin, you die, we watch. Really, it's a riot!"

"You're sick!" I hollered angrily.

"Let us spin the wheel of Misfortune!"

Reaver pulled another lever and the curious wheel in front of us began to turn. It landed first on a symbol, which I guessed meant Hobbes. I'd seen pictures of them, you see. Short, fat and ugly. We hurried through the door with the Hobbe over it.

"I only hope this game isn't too hard." I muttered to Vannery as we entered the arena.

How wrong I was.