Only a few tendrils of worry twist themselves into a knot in her stomach as Gwen tracks Merlin's and Arthur's backward progress towards her door. Everything is going according to plan. Arthur will slip the necklace onto Merlin and Merlin will escape with them to the caves below the castle where, so he'd told them, he could hide for as long as he liked as long as someone supplied him with food and water.

But when Merlin flickers out of sight and Arthur is pushed away into one of the other knights and Merlin's skinny frame does not come stumbling into them, Gwen's worry erupts into full scale panic.

In the next few hours it is only George's ever-unflappable demeanor that keeps her grounded and focused.

Step one: Find Merlin.

Sir Borin son of Byron had always liked the cocky young servant who dared talk back to the nobles who ranked him. So when he heard that the Prince himself was propagating rumors of Merlin's Ghost he was immediately suspicious. He also immediately arranged to help out. Over the following weeks his suspicions grew. Something was up. The Prince's eyes no longer held the haunted look they had in the first few days after the sorcerer's execution and both Arthur and Sir Leon had been sneaking around more than usual.

Still, facing the 'Ghost' of Merlin he has to admit that the flaming spectre certainly looks real. And the newest knight is not about to go charging it on the suspicion that it's not. Just in case.

So it turns out to be a stroke of good fortune that he has sheathed his sword when his Prince is sent flying into him knocking them both to the ground. It's also fortunate that, due to his liege's weight on top of him he can't turn his head to see what has happened. With his head forcibly held looking away from the action he is the only one to see a door open and then close with no visible person to do the honors.
Gotcha.

As soon as the chain settles around his neck Merlin excludes Arthur from the time spell and steps away from his support. Almost immediately he sways and stumbles into a nearby pillar.

"Just… put one foot… in front… of the other." He tells himself. He feels time speeding up again and sends a gust of wind to shove Arthur away in a showy burst of magic that also serves to sweep away the remnants of the glamour.

Just one more step.

Merlin's head begins to throb and suddenly he realizes that he can't feel his body. Not really. He doesn't know where his limbs are only that everything hurts.

Swathed in this haze of pain his only thought is to keep going. He can't remember what he's headed towards or running from; just that one more step is needed and then another.

Black spots swarm his vision. His arm, it must be outstretched, touches something cool and he follows it blindly until it gives way under the pressure of his own body. As he falls he wonders vaguely if everything is going according to plan. Then he wonders just what the plan was. His last thought before his head cracks against something hard and unyielding escapes his lips in a soft sigh.

"Arthur"

Borin slips out after the other knights on Arthur's command but ducks down a side corridor as soon as he can. Minutes later he watches Arthur hurry past him and then doubles back.

Upon entering the cavernous room he heads straight for the small door to the left of where Arthur had been standing when he was thrown back. Carefully he pushes it inward and hesitates when he meets with resistance. He weighs his options and then inch-by-inch shoves it open just enough to slip through.

On the other side his first reaction is one of befuddlement. Nothing is there to provide the resistance he'd felt upon opening the door. Then he remembers how the door had first opened and closed as if by an invisible hand.

Invisible. That's the key.

He shuffles forward until his foot hits something soft and yielding; a body.

He leans down and feels out the skinny torso covered with strips of linen. Bandages? What for? His hands move upward and he feels the neck for a pulse. Relieved to find one he pulls out a dagger just in case and holds it near the mouth. Faint traces of air fog the steel surface and now that he's listening for it he can hear the gentle puffs of breath; in and out. The person seems to be wheezing slightly as if in pain.

Who are they?

The young knight decides that it doesn't matter. They'd either been helping the Prince or needed to face his justice. Whichever it was (and just in case they were a friend) it's his job to get them out of this corridor and somewhere… well safe might be exaggerating a bit.

Borin slips his arms under the man's skinny frame.

His room will probably be safe enough.

Arthur is nearly out of his mind with worry when a tentative knock at his door interrupts his restless pacing.

Before he can tell whoever-it-is to go away the sleek haired, smooth jowled face of Lord Byron's son peeks around the door.

Curses! What was the boy's name? Arthur remembers knighting the boy but…

"Yes?" His command is curt and angry, sidestepping any need to call the knight by name.

"Sire, um- well you see- please Sire, I did what I thought was right, just as I swore in my oaths - I pray that you won't punish me for it-"

Arthur can sense it in the way the knight holds himself.

Merlin.

Refusing to voice his hopes he probes the knight further. "Spit it out already! What exactly am I not supposed to punish you for?"

The young man, practically still a boy, gulps.

"Harboring-a-sorcerer." He spits out in a rush of syllables. "But I swear I'm not protecting him. That is-" His face steadily bleaches whiter and whiter. "-If you're hoping he's safe then don't worry. He is. But if he's plotting against Camelot, well he's unconscious at the moment and injured far as I can tell. I don't think he'll be much of a threat. I mean- that is-"

Arthur silences further babble by striding up him. Torn between hugging the man – because that level of emotion is entirely appropriate when Merlin is involved and the knight has surely saved the warlock's life – and locking him up in the stocks for a week for even daring to think of Merlin as evil – when the boy really isn't to blame considering he's probably been brought up to hate magic with every breath and really it's a wonder that he'd even consider a sorcerer as an ally – Arthur compromises with a simple question.

"Where is he?"