A day passed since Feliks' murder, and swiftly turned itself into a week with terrifying ease. All future performances at the Fireball Circus were cancelled. There were no practices or conferences either, but every company member was required by law to remain living on the circus grounds, as if stuck in an aimless time loop. Despite these changes, it was easy enough for Erzsébet to keep herself occupied. Mountains of circus paperwork required her attention, and she spent each day in a flurry of determined activity. Yet even through this semblance of routine, Erzsébet still felt, still grieved, and still remembered. Even through all the daily chores, the tedious administration duties, the endless meetings and interviews with the Kriminalpolizei, she could never quite shake off the constant ache inside.

Erzsébet had not cried since the night of the murder, but the numb pain of it festered like an old wound. Every morning she awoke to the same sickening realisation; every night her sleep was tainted with fretful dreams. Little reminders of Feliks seemed to be lurking everywhere. They were usually small, silly things, like songs or colours or snatches of conversation, but Erzsébet was unable to grow accustomed to them. Sometimes they made her feel angry, sometimes they made her feel sad, but more often than not, they just confused her. She did not know whether she was ready to think about Feliks yet, and did not know whether it would be better or worse to suppress the memories until she was. But there was one thought that Erzsébet clung onto— one resolve that made sense through all the grief and uncertainty. She was going to find Feliks' killer. She was going to find them, and bring them to justice.

Aside from the murder, two other issues nagged at Erzsébet that week, both in the form of irritating young men. Thankfully, the issue with Roderich proved to be a lot more manageable than she had expected. They had spoken on numerous occasions since the staring incident— tentatively at first, then with a gradual, if slightly guarded sense of familiarity. Erzsébet was both surprised and relieved by how pleasant these conversations became. Roderich still regarded her disdainfully, and he still refused to smile, but some of his snobbery had lately given way to a careful politeness. Although Erzsébet could not trust him after the warning from her tarot cards, she was at least grateful that he was making this acquaintance bearable. She only wished that her other problem could be so easily solved. Erzsébet had thought that agreeing to make up with Gilbert might appease Feliciano. If anything, it only seemed to increase his resolve. The incessant pestering quickly grew extremely annoying, a bit like being followed around by a whiny, talkative bee. Erzsébet tried not to pay attention at first, but the more Feliciano hassled, the more she realised that she couldn't ignore Gilbert forever. Sooner or later, someone had to make the move.

Which is why she found herself standing outside the Beilschmidt's tent on Friday morning, a white teddy bear tucked under her arm and an impending sense of trepidation in her gut. She took a breath to steal herself before ringing the bell that Ludwig hung over the entrance. Really, she had no idea why she was so nervous. Gilbert was not a difficult person to talk to, and she was actually quite keen to renew their friendship. Yet she could not suppress the doubtful voice inside that wondered whether Gilbert would feel the same. Perhaps he would spurn her; perhaps he would laugh mockingly in her face. Or even worse, perhaps there was a part of him that still wanted a… different sort of relationship. Erzsébet felt her stomach clench, and she forced the thoughts out of mind.

It took quite some time for anyone to let her in. Erzsébet could hear Ludwig shouting inside, and a harassed kind of "Okay, okay!" in reply. When the tent flap opened, it was Gilbert himself who stood on the other side. He held a can of beer in one hand, and wore a tasteless t-shirt printed with the words 'Five Metres of Awesome' and an arrow pointing towards his crotch. Erzsébet's heart gave a nervous twinge.

"Morning!" Gilbert said, then he realised who was calling. His smirk faded. "Oh. Ludi's around the back if you want to talk to him…"

Erzsébet stepped forward. "Actually, Gilbert, I wanted to talk to you."

"Me?" Gilbert's mouth fell open. "Er, well yeah, of course you want to talk to the awesome me! How could you not? Heh!" His laugh was so strained that it sounded more like he was swallowing his voice. Erzsébet gritted her teeth, ready to deliver the painful speech that she'd practiced in front of the mirror.

"I just wanted to say… I think it's silly for us to keep going on like this. Not talking. Pretending we don't exist. Especially after… what happened. I might not be in love with you any more, but I still care about you as a friend and, well— " Blushing, she thrust the teddy bear at Gilbert's chest. "This is to say sorry."

For a moment, Gilbert seemed lost for words. He dropped the beer can, and stared in shock from Erzsébet to the teddy bear as if she'd just told him that Oktoberfest had been cancelled. Then, his face split into a wide grin, stretching from ear to ear. "Haha, I knew you'd come around eventually! Who wouldn't want to be friends with someone as great as me? I, um, was going to ask you myself, but I couldn't find the time."

"Were you?" Erzsébet said dryly.

"Yeah! It's just I've been super busy with everything lately but, er… " His expression softened and he looked aside. "I guess I kind of… missed you."

"I kind of missed you too, Gil."

They stood for a while in nervous silence, though thankfully not an uncomfortable one. Gilbert looked at the teddy bear in his hands and ruffled its head. "Awww, he's so cute! What's his name?"

"Doesn't have one yet. But how do you know it's a boy?"

"I can always tell. I have special insight and stuff," Gilbert said, "Anyway, come in! I know you're just dying for the chance to hear about all the awesome things I've been doing."

Gilbert led Erzsébet through the meeting room to a poky sleeping compartment at the back of the tent. The sloping canopy halved the area inside, and three camp beds were squashed into a space clearly meant for two. Ludwig sat upon one of them, tapping at a laptop balanced over his crossed legs. The others remained unoccupied. Gilbert ran over to his bed immediately, placing the white teddy bear carefully on the mattress. The bed was covered with various cuddly toys already, including several birds, a panda, and a bear dressed in a football kit. Gilbird the budgie fluttered around the pillow, chirping happily.

"Hey guys," Gilbert said, addressing his menagerie, "Guess what, you're all super lucky today because I brought you a new friend. Say hello, everyone!"

Ludwig glanced at Erzsébet suspiciously over the top of his laptop screen. "Please don't tell me that my brother forced you into buying more useless junk for him," he said.

"This one was a present, actually. Long overdue," said Erzsébet. She decided against mentioning that she had actually found the bear in lost property from last week's performance.

Gilbert suddenly spun around and lunged at Ludwig's bed. "Dammit, Ludi, that's my laptop!" he cried, "Give it back!"

Ludwig deftly raised the laptop out of reach. "You didn't seem to be doing anything important."

"I was totally doing something important! The fate of the entire Prussian army is at stake in my Total War campaign, and I can't let my countrymen down."

"You spend a lot of time in Bavaria for a self-proclaimed Prussian, you know."

"Yeah, checking the place out before I invade Munich. But that's not the point. I was halfway through a battle!" Gilbert made another swipe for the laptop, and Ludwig swatted his hands away.

"You will be pleased to know that I clicked the save button before exiting."

Gilbert put his hands on his hips. "You'd better have done, 'cause I'm not doing all that conquering shit again. What do you even need it for anyway?"

"I— " Ludwig hesitated for a fraction of a second. "I'm making a blog."

For a moment, Gilbert and Erzsébet just stared back, incredulous. Then Gilbert's face lit up with worrying delight. He caught Erzsébet's eye, and the two of them descended into a fit of giggles.

Ludwig frowned and began tapping the keys with renewed force. "Alright, I think you two can stop now. I don't really see the funny side."

Erzsébet shook her head, unable to keep the amused smile off her face. Ludwig was far too much of a cutie to mock, but he did make it so easy sometimes… "This wouldn't be for Feli, by any chance?" she asked.

"It… it is actually. Although it's still your fault," Ludwig said, glaring at his brother, "Feliciano happened to see your ridiculous T-Shirt the other day and got the wrong impression. He's been asking me for my blog's URL ever since."

"So instead of admitting that you're a boring work-obsessed nerd, you're actually making one?" Gilbert snorted and wiped away his tears of laughter. "Haha, that's too funny!"

Sighing, Ludwig plugged a pair of headphones into the laptop and placed them over his ears to block out any further ridicule. Gilbert's chuckling abruptly transformed into a splutter, and he became seized with a short but fully-fledged coughing fit. Pulling out his inhaler, he hastily sucked on the end. He cast it down on his pillow while he regained control of his breathing, then turned to Erzsébet. "Wanna kick some zombie ass?" he asked, nodding at a television and games console lurking in the corner.

"Sure," Erzsébet said.

While Gilbert set up the game, she sat down on the third bed in the room. The mattress felt softer and springier than usual, but it was notoriously untidy in comparison to the Beilschmidts' beds. The quilt was creased and tossed haphazardly over the mattress. The pillow hung halfway off the bed, completely eschew. Random clothes had been draped over the bedstead— a waistcoat, a pair of trousers, and a… fluffy cloth. "Is this Roderich's bed?" Erzsébet asked.

Gilbert made a face. "Unfortunately. I tried to make him get his own tent but the specky little priss started shitting his pants at the idea of spending money."

Erzsébet bit her lip. She knew that Roderich could be pompous and deluded, but she didn't think he quite warranted the bitter loathing in Gilbert's voice. "Why do you hate him so much? He's seems perfectly nice to me."

"Shit, don't tell me you actually like Roder-dick," Gilbert said, inserting a disk into the drive, "He's good at faking politeness but, trust me, he's the really the biggest asshole you'll ever meet."

A week ago, Erzsébet might have been inclined to agree. There was still a very vocal part of her mind that realised Gilbert was talking a lot of sense. But in that moment, all reason gave way to blinding instinct, and Erzsébet suddenly found herself blurting something out to defend him, "At least Roderich has class," she said, "That's more than can be said for you, Gil."

"Haha, class? Well, guess what, I've got some very shocking news for you." Gilbert reached over to pick up something that had fallen off the end of Roderich's bed. It was a very faded pair of boxer shorts with a purple patch stitched into the back. "Look, he can't even bring himself to buy new underwear when his old ones are falling apart. He just patches them up again and again. He's got a shit-ton of money from his Dad's side of the family, but he'd never be prepared to spend any of it, stingy little prick."

Gilbert laughed again and flung the boxer shorts on the bed. Erzsébet stared at the flimsy patch, still a little sceptical. Surely that couldn't be right. Surely Roderich couldn't be as frugal as Gilbert suggested when he owned such a luxurious watch. "Where is he now, anyway?" she asked, deciding to put the matter out of mind.

"Roder-dick? Doing his prissy piano practice over at the main tent." Gilbert pressed a button on the remote, and the TV screen sprang into life."Damn, that reminds me, I've got to go out and get his sorry ass back here once he's finished."

"And when does he finish?" Erzsébet said, catching the controller that Gilbert tossed her way.

Gilbert settled down beside her, lounging back with a second controller in his hands. "He said he'd give us a call."

…

Roderich ended up ringing fifteen minutes later, by which time Erzsébet had already played through several gruesome rounds of CoD: Zombies. Gilbert won the majority, causing him to become more arrogant than ever. Thankfully, Ludwig cut their last game short by unplugging the power chord and insisting that they went to escort Roderich back. Ignoring Gilbert's feeble excuses, Erzsébet complied and dragged him outside.

It was a breezy morning, with an earthy, autumnal tang about the air. Erzsébet and Gilbert hurried through the circus grounds while stray leaves whipped up and danced around their feet. The lilt of piano keys echoed from afar, growing steadily louder and fuller as they followed the music towards the Big Top. As soon as Erzsébet stepped into the vast marquee, her heart began to swell in her chest. The grand piano must have been moved since the last production, for it no longer stood upon the stage, but in a secluded corner near the entrance. Roderich sat behind the instrument; straight-backed, poised, and swaying with the immense sound. He looked every inch a God atop his throne, lost in the magic of his performance.

"Fucking poncey show-off," Gilbert muttered.

Erzsébet shivered involuntarily, though it had nothing to do with Gilbert's language. All the pieces she'd heard Roderich play on stage were slow— gorgeous and captivating, yes, but still slow. This piece was fiendishly quick, with booming chords and rolling glissandos that sounded as mischievous as they did majestic. But what really made Erzsébet's skin tingle was not only the performance itself, but the fact that she recognised the tune. Fond memories of ancient folklore and mystical tradition burst into her mind, and she had to make a conscious effort to breathe through the stirring nostalgia.

Roderich eventually concluded the piece with a regal flourish, and took his hands off the keys. There was an impish smirk playing on his features; the closest thing to a smile Erzsébet had seen from him. When he finally opened his eyes, they caught hers almost straight away. His expression softened. "Ah, Erzsébet, how nice to see you this morning. Not so nice to see you," he added, nodding at Gilbert, "But I suppose one can't have everything."

"You're lucky I actually decided to come, Specs!" Gilbert said, "You suck so much at directions that you'd never be able to find your way back without my awesome skills to guide you."

Erzsébet, however, only had one thing she wanted to say to Roderich. She spoke quickly, before he could get an angry retort in, "Hungarian rhapsody."

Roderich raised his eyebrows at the clear adulation in her voice. "That's correct. Liszt, Number 10. I thought you might appreciate it."

Erzsébet nodded, knowing full well that 'appreciate' was both an understatement and a disservice to possibly the best patriotic rendition she had ever heard. She managed a shy smile as she toyed with the hem of her skirt. "It was my Grandmother's favourite…"

"She must have had fine musical taste then," Roderich said, "Liszt is always a challenging choice given that he employs such radical departures from harmony, but I think I am well-practiced enough to do a little justice to his singular musical form."

"You think adding a load of sissy technical terms makes it sound more impressive?" Gilbert sneered, "Nope, all piano music is just the same, everyone knows that."

"That's mean, Gil," Erzsébet said reproachfully.

Buttoning his navy overcoat, Roderich stood up from the bench and replaced the lid over the keys. "Don't bother, Erzsébet, I cannot say I'm surprised by his attitude. Clearly, such subtle beauty is beyond philistines."

"Pfff, yeah right! I could play that thing any day," Gilbert drawled, "In fact, why don't you give me a go on it now?"

Roderich reacted instantly, flattening himself against the instrument and holding out his arms as if shielding a precious child. "Don't you dare even think about touching my piano!"

"Awww, come on! I used to play the flute so well I could have gone professional when I was about five or something."

"Even if I believed that nonsense, they are entirely different instruments, Gilbert," Roderich said. His wide eyes flickered anxiously in an attempt at authority. "I'm warning you, not a step closer."

Gilbert snickered. "What are you going to do, slap me with your glove?"

"No," Roderich said, drawing himself up, "But I will tell Ludwig the moment I next see him."

Gilbert took a nervous step backwards. "Haha, like I wanted to play it anyway. The piano's way too girly for me, I need a badass instrument like… like…" He clicked his fingers. "Like a guitar! Yeah, I could rock a guitar!"

He glanced around as if he was expecting one to materialise out of thin air. Spotting some cleaning equipment lying by the side of the stage, he gave a whoop of delight and rushed over to pick up one of the brooms. "Hey, look at this! Look at how awesome it is!" He pretended to strum the brush, making loud guitar noises. "Neyow neyow neyow! Gilbert is the best, Gilbert is the best!"

He looked so comical and dorky, and so very Gilbert that Erzsébet had to fight a laugh. Roderich folded his arms, unimpressed. "Honestly, you idiot. Kindly put that down and stop making a fool of yourself."

"Neyow neyow, Roderich's a sissy girl-boy! Neyow neyow neyooow!" As Gilbert strummed the brush, a cloud of dust rose up and he sneezed violently.

Roderich curled his lip. "Could you at least have the courtesy to cover your mouth when you do that?"

"I can't heh—help it, it's my asthma! It makes m—me— Hwe'schooow!"

"I think that's probably enough for now," Erzsébet said, striding over to coax the broom out of Gilbert's hands.

"That's not fair! I was just giving you a sample of my brilliant skills."

"If you do insist on treating us to your music, at least use a proper instrument next time, imbecile."

Erzsébet left them to their argument and tossed the broom onto the stage. It landed against the wood with a heavy clatter, and Erzsébet would have discarded it altogether were it not for the unusual sound that followed. There was an almighty, menacing groan, like something giving way, then the slam of wood knocking against a surface. Erzsébet leaned forward cautiously. What she had considered to be part of the stage had swung open, leaving a gaping hole underneath. It looked just about large enough to admit a person. Erzsébet peered into the gap, so intrigued that her breath began to still. It was too dark inside to make anything out, but a strong musty scent wafted into her nostrils. Erzsébet drew back slightly, contemplating. Perhaps this was just a storage space that she had never noticed before. Yet she could not ignore the gnawing suspicion inside that said otherwise. Spinning around, she called out to the others:

"You two! Look at this."

She was met with no response. Roderich and Gilbert were glowering at each other across the room, still bickering furiously over God knew what. Erzsébet raised her voice to a shout. "Hey!"

Miraculously, her cry managed to get the pair to turn around. "What is it?" Gilbert asked.

Erzsébet said nothing, but beckoned them over to the stage. Her doubts were confirmed the moment Gilbert and Roderich surveyed the trapdoor, both immediately adopting looks of perplexity.

"Oh my!" Roderich said, taking off his spectacles to rub his eyes, "Is this… is this the first time you've ever seen this entrance?"

"Yes," Erzsébet said quietly.

"No suggestions of any moving panels or secret areas before?"

Erzsébet shared an uneasy glance with Gilbert, knowing that he must be thinking the same thing as she was. The Big Top had been set up countless times in countless locations over the years, but the number of times that anyone had mentioned a space underneath the stage was definitely countable. Zero.

"Yeah, this is weird as fuck," said Gilbert, slowly shaking his head.

"I think there are probably two possibilities," Erzsébet said, "Either this is a feature that the manufactures included, and we've all been too stupid to recognise it until now. Or…" She faltered, trying not to succumb to a sudden urge to shudder. Roderich completed the sentence in her stead,

"Or it must have been created more recently, in secret, and presumably for a specific purpose."

Gilbert clapped his hands together like it was nothing more than a new level on a video game. "Well there's only one way to find out which one, isn't there? C'mon, let's explore!"

"Hold on." Roderich placed a firm hand on Gilbert's shoulder, pulling him back. "Do you really think this is a wise idea? We'd be walking into something entirely unknown here, goodness knows what we might find."

Gilbert shook his hand away. "That's bullshit, Specs! You're just afraid that you're gonna make your nice coat all dusty," he said.

Roderich gave an affronted sniff. "Well, this is cashmere, you know…"

"Which proves my point exactly, princess."

While the squabble continued, Erzsébet glanced through the trapdoor again. She didn't know whether it was just her imagination, but she was sure that she could see vague outlines of shapes as she blinked into the darkness. A chill prickled over her skin. Roderich was right; it wasn't a remotely sensible idea to go fumbling around in a gloomy and mysterious passage. The correct response to this situation would surely be to leave the entrance alone and ask the Kripo to investigate at the soonest opportunity. But at the same time, Erzsébet knew that was impossible. The memory of her vow played in her thoughts, filling her with a resolute sense of duty. Didn't she have an obligation to explore anything unusual? Didn't she owe it to Feliks to summon enough courage for a quick search? Erzsébet straightened up, squaring her jaw.

"Someone find a light source," she said, "We're going inside."

…

After a five-minute struggle, Gilbert succeeded in detaching one of the LED lights that thronged the stage. The main beam brought forth a blazing white glare; so strong that it was nearly blinding. There was a short dispute over who would be entering the room first. Roderich made a vague stab at gallantry and insisted that Erzsébet should hold back, but since she was the one who had discovered the entrance, his protests were outvoted. Erzsébet steadied her nerves, clutching the lamp in one hand while she lowered herself through the trapdoor. Her feet hit the ground almost immediately. She crouched down as much as possible, edging forward on her hands and knees into the space beneath the stage.

In Erzsébet's opinion, the resulting room was not exactly worth staging a debate over. It was not exactly a room at all— more of a cramped, stuffy hollow. Overhead, the gaps between the rafters cast thin strips of light over a bumpy floor, while the whole place stank of sawdust. Dust and cobwebs were collecting everywhere she cast her eye, making it increasingly difficult to breathe without inhaling anything. Erzsébet tried kneeling tentatively. There was just enough room before she hit her head, although both Roderich and Gilbert seemed to be having trouble as they crawled in after her.

Roderich began brushing the front of his overcoat in what he must have thought was a surreptitious manner. "Now, would somebody mind explaining what made this ridiculous excursion worthwhile?" he said.

In response, Erzsébet flashed the lamp around the low area. A moth-eaten red sleeping bag lay in the middle, surrounded by a stack of large boxes. Each one was sealed with a lid on top, so it was impossible to guess what might be inside.

"So this is just a storage space?" Gilbert asked.

"Depends on what it is that's being stored." Erzsébet said. She trained the light on the sleeping bag, illuminating its worn texture. "Do you think this is just here for safekeeping, or do you think someone might be using it?"

Roderich snorted. "This is hardly the Ritz, is it?"

"Y'know Specs, for once I actually agree with you. There's got to be about a metric fucktonne of dust down here," Gilbert said, letting out a raspy cough. He slipped a hand into one of his pockets and rummaged around. When his search came up empty, he repeated the process with the next pocket, then patted himself down frantically. "Ah, shit. I think I might have left my inhaler back at Ludi's tent."

There was a moment of pained silence.

"Gilbert, you are a complete and utter fool," Roderich snapped.

"Haha, you just admitted you're worried about me!" Gilbert said, "And, I mean, who can blame you when you've got a cousin who's as awes— "

Erzsébet interrupted tersely, "Gil, of course we're going worried about you. There's a chance you might suffocate!"

"Suffocate?" Gilbert laughed, although it sounded more like a wheeze. "Don't be melodramatic, Erzsi, it makes you sound like Ludwig."

"Just go back up, this won't take long…"

"Nah, I'll be fine for a moment. Anyway, we've got investigating to do!" Gilbert crawled over to the other side of the room to start on the boxes. Erzsébet looked at Roderich, who just shrugged his shoulders defeatedly and followed him over. Gilbert had already torn the nearest box open and was busy delving through a collection of hoodies and flannel shirts inside. Erzsébet began ripping the lids of those that remained. The first box contained jeans, underwear, and not a lot else. The second appeared to be full of kitchen equipment. Erzsébet tipped it over for a closer examination, scattering sauce bottles, cutlery, and even a large steel frying pan over the floor.

"Jesus!" Gilbert yanked his hand out of the way as the pan narrowly avoided hitting his thumb. "Watch what you're doing there, Erzsi."

"Sorry," Erzsébet muttered. There was nothing noteworthy at the bottom on the box, so she scooped the items up and carefully replaced them. She knew she ought to feel relieved that everything they had found was so mundane, but the tension in her shoulders only seemed to be building. If these clothes and utilities really were here for storage, why weren't they being kept above ground for everyone to access? Why had they only just discovered this location now? As Erzsébet ripped off another lid, her mind swamped with questions, she looked up briefly to see Roderich examining the trapdoor.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

Roderich traced his fingers over the wood. "I believe I have discovered a most unusual contraption."

"Really?" Erzsébet said. She crawled towards the entrance. "What is it?"

Roderich took Erzsébet's hand in his, and lifted it up to the beams. "There. Can you feel that?"

Just beyond the gap, Erzsébet's fingertips brushed against cold mental fastened onto the wood. The shape of it felt like a long, thin cylinder. "Is that… a bolt?" asked Erzsébet.

"Correct. The matching part is on here," Roderich said, tapping the trapdoor, "Curious, wouldn't you say? This flap can swing upwards or downwards, but the only way anyone would be able to lock it is if they were inside, as we are now."

"Yeah…" Erzsébet pulled her hand away, feeling a little breathless. The revelation with the bolt was startling, but all she could think about were Roderich's intricate fingers, and how gently they had enclosed around hers. She forced herself to focus. "A design error, do you think? Or could it be that it's frequently used?"

"Honestly, I have no idea."

"Heh'chooo!"

Both Roderich and Erzsébet turned abruptly as another booming sneeze tore through the air. Gilbert knelt by the boxes, rubbing his nose against the back of his hand. "Goddamn allergies."

Roderich sighed witheringly. "For goodness sake, Gilbert, where are your manners? One should never sneeze openly when a lady is present."

"Oh sure, I know that. But you're family, Roddy, so I don't think you really count," Gilbert said. He grinned hugely while Roderich just shook his head in despair.

"You know what I meant, you fool."

Erzsébet surveyed the boxes. By now, Gilbert had finished emptying most of them, leaving an assortment of clothes, toiletries, stationary, and other household items strewn around the area. As Erzsébet scanned over them, her eyes caught on a stray bit of paper nearby. It looked about the same size and shape as a postcard. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to it.

Gilbert shrugged. "Nothing important. But I bet you'll like it."

Erzsébet took the paper and held up to the lamplight. It was an old photograph, slightly torn around the edges, which displayed two young men embracing in a cornfield. The man on the left was pressing a kiss to his partner's cheek. The man on the right simply stared straight ahead, beaming like he was blessed with all the love in the world. Erzsébet let out a small squeal of approval. "Awww, that's so cute!"

"Sheesh, it's just a picture. No need to go apeshit, woman."

Erzsébet was ready to retort angrily, but a sudden slam from above made her jump. Her heart plummeted. Something had caused the trapdoor to close without warning. Something or someone. Dropping the photograph, she hurried to the entrance, ignoring Roderich's hiss of "Be careful!" As soon as she reached it, Erzsébet pushed the trapdoor. The flap would not open. She pushed it again, harder this time, but it still refused to yield.

"What's wrong?" Gilbert asked.

"I think this might be stuck." Erzsébet shoved it with as much power as she could summon. "The hinge must be a bit rusty."

"Here, lemme have a go." Gilbert slammed into the flap with both hands, throwing every inch of his strength behind the attack. He sprang back a moment later, and rubbed his palms. "Crap, what's up with that thing?"

"Perhaps you ought to try pulling instead of pushing?" Roderich suggested.

Obediently, Gilbert grabbed the trapdoor bolt and yanked it hard. The action availed him no more than any of his previous attempts. "Fuck's sake…" He turned to Erzsébet frantically. "Why isn't it working?"

Erzsébet didn't answer, but swivelled around to kick the trapdoor with both feet. "Open up!"

All she managed to achieve from this was a sharp throb in her toes. Ignoring the pain, Erzsébet continued lashing out, Gilbert copying the action beside her. But no matter how hard they tried, neither Erzsébet's determination, nor the steely power of Gilbert's Doc Martins, nor either of them yelling themselves horse managed to shift the trapdoor a single inch. Panting, Erzsébet lowered her feet and gazed at the flap in despair.

She had to face it. They were trapped.

To be continued next week...

Hungarian Rhapsody No.10 (Liszt): watch?v=NIoqkKErpSs

I've had such lovely messages of support and feedback over the past week, for which I am naturally grateful. I can only hope that the story continues to shock and entertain.