AN: Sorry everybody! I had several papers and a midterm, and... well let's just say this chapter was extremely difficult to write... and it just kept getting longer! But here it is at last, in all its unbeta-ed glory. My fault for not contacting my betas sooner. Heh... Anyways, please R&R! :)

"Arthur for god's sake relax!" Morgana snapped, pausing in her search of the filing cabinet to scowl at the teen. "Uther won't be out of the meeting any time soon."

"And he'll kill us both if he finds us in here," Arthur muttered, pacing to the window again the look anxiously out. Morgana was probably right. The man who'd stabbed Merlin had been identified as one of the Norwegian representatives, and the guest quarters had been locked down instantly. Uther had, of course, been gone since the moment they returned from the hospital, attempting to untangle this newest tangle of red tape, but Arthur knew all too well the fury they would both face if by chance the meeting ended early. "You still haven't explained how you're going to find this Brigid character?" he added, tearing his eyes from the window and returning to peer over Morgana's shoulder again.

"Brigid Fyr," Morgana said without looking up. "I've heard Gaius mention her name before. She's one of his suppliers... I think..." She drew out the word as she paused in her search, fingers lingering over one file. "That she imports ingredients from other countries." Seeming to reach a decision, she pulled out the file and flicked through the papers inside. "Here." Morgana straightened up and held out the paper to Arthur.

"Dad won't let her into the hospital. You know that," Arthur pointed out, scanning briefly over the paper. The supplier's information was laid out neatly across the page, including her address, number, and the name of her little herbal shop in a suburb of the city. It was just like Gaius to supply his surgery from odd little places like this one. Arthur was far from the only one to consider the man somewhat old fashioned in his methods. Nonetheless, he was the only physician Uther would trust since he had nearly been poisoned by an impostor he'd hired to assist in the surgery for a brief time.

"She doesn't need to see Merlin," Morgana retorted. "Like Gaius said, we just need her to identify the poison on the knife."

"The knife!" Arthur looked up abruptly from the paper. "What happened to it?" Morgana reached under Gaius' desk and with an insufferably smug smile presented Arthur with a sterile syringe box from the clinic.

"You left it tucked into a loop on your backpack. I put it in this to keep it safe." She closed the file drawer with a click and stood.

"Morgana, that's obstructing evidence!" Arthur exclaimed. "You could be arrested!" Morgana raised an eyebrow dispassionately.

"So we won't let them know I took it." She held up the box. "Of course, we could just turn it in and let Merlin die if you prefer."

"Morgana!" Arthur gritted his teeth.

"Look," Morgana tapped the paper in Arthur's hands. "It won't take us above two hours. Take the public transit, get an antidote from her, and head straight for the hospital. Uther'll be in the meeting for hours. We'll be back before he even knows we were gone."

"Morgana..." She's not going to take this well, he thought, crimping the edge of the paper unconsciously. "I really think you should stay here."

"Why?" Morgana demanded, her gray-green eyes narrowing coldly.

"The meeting probably won't run past ten; you know that. And my father will have a fit if we both go missing,"

"He'll have a fit if you go missing," said Morgana tartly.

"And that's why you have to stay here and make sure he doesn't find out," Arthur emphasized quickly. Morgana was clearly unimpressed with his argument. She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow at him. "Look," Arthur pressed. "Morgana... you're a girl-"

"You noticed," she interrupted, her voice dripping with acidic sarcasm. "Honestly, Arthur, you're not nine anymore. Do you still think I have the cooties?"

"You're a girl," Arthur repeated more forcibly, summoning his last scraps of patience. "And it's getting dark. Nobody will think twice if they see me walking alone in the dark. You would attract attention. Besides, one of us has to stay here and cover." He met her burning gaze fixedly. "It's got to be you." Arthur extended a hand slowly to take the box, and after a brief hesitation, Morgana somewhat ungraciously pressed it into his hands.

"Fine. We don't have time for this. Go. I'll look up the address and keep in touch until you find it." Arthur nodded, relieved, and handed Brigid's info sheet back in exchange.

"Thanks, Morgana."

"Don't thank me yet." Morgana's irritatingly superior smile returned. "I'm certainly not taking the fall for this if Uther finds out."

As if the weather was conspiring against him, it began to snow the moment Arthur stepped into the open. He gritted his teeth, wishing his warmer jacket wasn't stowed away somewhere in a security building somewhere with a long tear in it. The guard at the gate was sitting with his feet up on the desk, a steaming cup of coffee in one gloved hand. He stood when Arthur approached and peered out of his shelter.

"Sorry, Arthur. You're not to go out without a guard." Arthur tugged his hood back to get a clear look at the guard... Waverly... West...Wood... something like that. He'd seen the man around-didn't know much about him, though; he was a relatively new addition to the force. Perhaps he didn't know the ropes well yet.

"It's alright," Arthur said, quickly thinking up the name of another Patronus who didn't work the gate. "Er... Preston's waiting outside for me."

"Preston?" the guard echoed. "I thought he was off for the rest of the day." He frowned. "Why doesn't he meet you inside the neighborhood?"

"He got reassigned. It was a bit short notice," Arthur improvised. "I have to stop by Gareth's and finish up a school project." The guard looked dubious, so Arthur added a trace of impatience to his voice. "Look, I haven't got much time. I've got to get back before the gate closes." That seemed to do the trick. Westwood-or whatever his name was-stepped aside.

"Alright then," he said, though he still sounded a bit hesitant. "Be sure you wait for Preston once you're outside."

"I will." Arthur pulled his hood back up and strode quickly through the gate, heading for the nearest stop.

"Not bad," Morgana's voice said into his ear, startling him. Arthur scowled and adjusted the earpiece volume.

"Yeah, thanks. Now where to?" The earpiece registered the tapping of Morgana's keyboard.

"Down the street," Morgana said. "There's a bus stop. Pay cash; they could track your Oyster card."

The bus and streets both were crowded with commuters heading home from work, and Arthur was easily able to go unnoticed in the crowd. Through the window he saw the snowfall rapidly thickening over the half hour commute. The weather, it turned out, was more sleet than snowflakes and Arthur's jacket became coated with wet only moments after he stepped off the bus. He kept his head down against the snow and cupped a hand around the microphone to block the sound of the wind.

"How much farther?" he asked.

"Not to far now," she answered, and he heard more shuffling from her end. "Four more blocks west, then turn right."

"You had better be right about this," Arthur growled, shivering.

"I know I am. It's on Google maps," his accomplice said airily. Arthur huffed.

"Because Google maps is never behind the times," he muttered to himself. There was a loud rustle from the earpiece.

"Oh, sh-" Morgana's voice cut off with a clatter. There was a scraping sound. "What the hell is your dad doing back?" she hissed. Arthur's fingers curled tight around the little mic piece.

"Just keep him out of my room!" he urged her. "Say I'm... doing homework or something." More clattering on the other end of the mic. Arthur thought he heard his father's voice.

"I have to go." Morgana said hurriedly. "I'll call you back as soon as possible. Turn right, look for the little herbal shop. You can't miss it."

"Morgana, wait! What do I do when I get there!" Arthur demanded. "Morgana!" He heard a click. The line was dead. Great; the Patroni would no doubt be all over the city in the next hour. He pulled up Brigid's address on his phone and followed the directions, picking up his pace. He'd have to get this over with quickly.

It was growing dark, and the streets were strangely quiet when Arthur turned the corner where Brigid's shop was. His jacket was soaked through, and now every little gust of wind cut through the wet fabric like an icy knife. He stopped under the little eave of the shop and rapped on the door hard. There was no answer. Arthur cupped his hands close to his mouth in a vain attempt to warm his stiff, numb fingers before hesitantly knocking again, a bit louder the second time. Then without warning, there was a soft click and every light on the entire length of the street went out. What? Arthur backed up against the door, feeling his heartbeat speed up. It was then that he noticed the street was not only dark and quiet but also completely empty. Not a soul was out walking, and the blinds were down in every window. The door behind him rattled, and Arthur scrambled back from in time to see it open the merest crack.

"What in god's name are you doing out at this time?" a woman's voice demanded in a low whisper. "You'll be arrested!"

"Wh-what?" Arthur stammered, clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering. An elderly woman was looking up at him with keen hazel eyes, her face lined with age. Her long silver hair was pulled back in a neat bun. Her expression sharpened into wary suspicion when she caught a clear glimpse of him.

"Come inside," she ordered, beckoning as she opened the door wider. "Quickly." Arthur didn't need to be told twice. He stepped gratefully into the warmth, and the door clicked shut behind him.

The inside of the store was lit only by the glow of a small lamp on a check-out desk near the back. A little space heater hummed softly by the desk, and the rows of shelves inside were lined with vitamins, herbal remedies, and over-the-counter medicines. Two doors at the back of the store were shrouded in shadow, one partially open; Arthur could see a staircase, probably leading into the woman's living quarters above her store.

"You're Brigid Fyr?" Arthur asked as the woman brushed past him.

"And you are Arthur Pendragon," she said by way of reply. "Why are you here?"

"I'm a friend of Gaius. He needs a poison identified."

"So he sent the son of Uther Pendragon alone at curfew." Brigid observed icily. Arthur's confidence flagged at her expression.

"He..." The teen shifted nervously. "No," he admitted, lowering his gaze. "But I-"

"Do you realize the danger you're putting both of us in?" she demanded.

"I..."

"Does your father know you're here?"

"Well, not really, but-"

"You shouldn't have come," the woman said turning away from him. "I'll call the Patroni to take you home."

"Would you just listen to me!" Arthur shouted taking a step after her as she headed for her desk. "Gaius couldn't come himself. His nephew's been poisoned." For the first time since coming into the shop, Arthur seemed to have her attention. She stopped in her tracks and looked hard at him.

"His nephew?" Arthur nodded. He shrugged his backpack off and pulled out the box with the knife.

"He was hurt with this. Gaius thought... he thought it was poisoned with magic." Her shoulders tensed at the last word. Her silence made Arthur uncomfortable, but he let a moment pass before cautiously adding: "Gaius also said you might know an antidote." She very slowly took the box from his hands and carried it to the back of the shop where the lamp sat. Arthur followed silently behind, and she laid the blade on her desk, studying it wordlessly in the dim light.

"Gaius sent you to ask for an antidote?" she said, turning the weapon over in her hands. The symbols etched on its blade gleamed in the light.

"More or less." Arthur glanced at his hands which were red and chapped from the cold, carefully avoiding her piercing gaze.

"He doesn't know you're here either," the woman concluded bluntly with an astuteness that further unnerved the teen. She set the knife down under the lamplight and turned to face him with keen intensity. "Do you know what you're asking?"

"I'm asking you to help save someone's life!" Arthur snapped, raising his eyes alight with a blaze of anger. He took a short, sharp breath. He could hardly afford to antagonize her, as infuriating as she was. "Just... tell me if you know an antidote."

"I know the antidote."

"I'll pay whatever you ask, then," Arthur said, turning to fetch his backpack.

"I don't want your money," the woman replied. "You have caused consequences for me simply by coming here. I have lived unnoticed in London for nearly ten years. If the Patroni find you here, I'll be arrested without question."

"I'll make sure no one bothers you!" Arthur insisted. "I promise!"

"Your friend's life is none of my concern," she said, returning her attention to the knife. Arthur gritted his teeth.

"Maybe not, but it's mine," he said in a voice tight with barely restrained anger. "I will give you whatever you ask, but I'm not leaving this building until you bring me an antidote." The woman looked up at him once more, and again, Arthur had the feeling that she was appraising him. His last measure of patience was rapidly running out, though, and he didn't care to wait until she was finished deciding whether he measured up to her standards. "Tell me what you want. I swear, I'll get it for you," he said firmly.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Pendragon," Brigid replied with infuriating calm in the face of his frustration. Arthur opened his mouth angrily, but she cut over him; "I'll give you the antidote. Then you will leave, and tell no one where you have been." The protest died on Arthur's lips and he nodded weakly, shocked at her assurance.

"Of course. Thank you."

"I'm doing this for Gaius, not you." Brigid said curtly. She took the knife and vanished into a back room, leaving Arthur alone in the dimly lit shop. Arthur stood beside the desk and stretched out his hands, still stiff and painful from the cold, towards the little space heater. The shutters of the shop rattled with another gust of wind, and he felt an unpleasant twinge of apprehension at the thought of going back out into the weather and the pitch black street. A soft chime broke the silence in the shop. Arthur flicked out his mobile. Four missed calls were listed on the notifications: all from his father-probably made while he was outside in the wind-and a text. Arthur pulled it up.

The Patroni are out looking for you. Morgana's name headed the text, of course. The phone chimed again, and another line appeared underneath: Uther wanted to see you. I told him you'd gone to Gareth's. He just found out you're not there. The windows rattled again, louder than before, then a new sound joined the howl of the wind-a sound Arthur recognized instantly: the wail of the city sirens. The city was on official lock-down now. In just minutes, the streets would be flooded with security-Police and Patroni alike. Arthur heard Brigid's footsteps and closed the phone a heartbeat before she reappeared. One look at her made him take a step back, suddenly uneasy. Her sharp hazel eyes were alight with anger and accusation.

"Called your father's men have you?" she asked in a voice deceptively soft.

"No, no!" Arthur shook his head vigorously. "I didn't call anyone!" He held up his phone. "You can check for yourself!" His timing could hardly have been worse. As soon as he held it out, the phone lit up, and vibrated in his palm playing the ringtone he'd set for his father. Brigid's eyes were cold. She set a small bottle on the desk before her.

"Go," she said harshly. "Before I change my mind."

"Thank you." Arthur took up the bottle and backed away, tucking it into his pocket. "I won't forget this."

"Go." Brigid spat. Arthur snatched his backpack up and darted for the door.

The wind and the sirens screamed in his ears the moment he went outside, but he didn't look back. He could practically feel the woman's eyes burning into his back. His mind was racing as he made his way down the dark street. Curfew was never an issue inside the neighborhood where he lived, so it hadn't occurred to him to make plans for it. He realized now that the public transit would be completely shut down like everything else in the outer city. He knew the streets well, and the hospital was much too far from his location for him to walk there-particularly in the dark. He certainly couldn't wait until morning to catch a bus; already he was shivering again as the snow whipped about his thin, wet jacket. The only option left was that he turn himself in to the Patroni. After that, he had no idea how he would get the antidote to Gaius. His father would have him grounded for the next month at the very least.

Another sharp blast of cold and snow made Arthur move quickly to take shelter around the next corner, listening for the footsteps of the nearest patrol. He had hardly turned around the building when something moved in the shadows and gave a muffled cry of surprise. Arthur started backwards, and he instantly reached into his pocket to grip his phone, a rush of adrenaline coursing through his already tense body.

"Who's there?" he demanded loudly. He flicked on the camera-light on his phone and held it up, squinting into the space between the two buildings on the corner. In the sharp glare of the light was a young woman huddled in the shadows, her dark hair flecked with white snow and her eyes wide and frightened. Her back was pressed to the wall of the building. "Sorry," Arthur lowered the light so it wasn't shining in her face. "Didn't mean to startle you." She stared fearfully at him and wrapped her arms around her body, trembling. "Are you alright?" Arthur asked, stepping cautiously closer. She shrank back.

"Please," she whimpered. "Please, I didn't mean to be out-I lost my way, and the lights-" She broke off with a sob and turned her face away.

"It's alright," Arthur reassured her. He took another step closer and extended a hand. "The lights always go out like that. Security will be here soon. They can help you." She shook her head, eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

"We'll both be arrested," she said in a trembling voice.

"We won't," Arthur insisted firmly.

"No, please, don't leave me with them. Please!" She sounded close to panicking.

"Alright, alright," Arthur held up both hands placatingly. "Just... come with me. You'll be safer." He took a step further into the little alley and offered her a hand again. "I'll help you," Arthur added. For a moment she looked up into his face and he thought she might take up his offer, then her eyes grew still wider than before, and she raised a trembling hand to point over Arthur's shoulder. Arthur turned to look, and his blood ran cold. Blocking the end of the alley was a black creature with a body the size of a large dog and enough legs that Arthur didn't even bother to count. Its eight eyes gleamed in the light of Arthur's phone. He felt as if he'd stepped straight into a horror movie. He had nothing: no gun, no knife-he'd left the poisoned one with Brigid. He didn't even have a rock or stick.

"Stay back," he ordered, shifting to place his body in front of the young woman. A gust of wind tugged at his wet jacket and hair, and... there was no other word for it; the young woman's figure appeared very suddenly next to the massive spider. Every trace of fear was gone from her beautiful face, and in its stead was a glint of mockery in her deep blue eyes. Arthur took several steps back, not daring to take his eyes off the oversized creature, and his foot bumped against something hard. He reached back with one hand and found a wall of cold metal wall: a dumpster.

"Very brave," she said softly. Arthur pressed his back to the wall, his eyes darting from the woman to her companion rubbing its front legs together as if considering the best way to skewer the teenager.

"Who are you?" he demanded, forcing his voice to remain steady. The woman smiled sweetly at him and raised a hand.

"An old friend of your father's." she replied. "I would tell you to say hello for me, but it would be a waste of breath. You won't survive this night." She opened her fist and whispered something in an unfamiliar language. Her eyes lit up brilliantly gold in the darkness, and something small leapt off of her palm, rapidly increasing in size. Arthur took one look at it and didn't wait to see the third of the giant spiders form from her palm. He scrambled on top of the dumpster and launched himself over the fence at the end of the alley. Over the sound of the arachnids' many legs scraping against metal and wire, he heard her laughing voice call out, "Good bye, Arthur Pendragon!"