Eric screamed and flew backwards away from the oak tree. The hollow stopped glowing altogether now. The portal was closed.
"Cat?" Elle asked nervously. "What do we do now?"
Catalina swallowed. She, Elle, Luke, Connor and Eric were left stranded. An eerie silence settled over them, created by the lack of anxious whispers of a dozen girls, the heavy footsteps of the automatons, the clash of swords. Catalina hated the quiet that roared at her to make a decision, one that had greeted her far too often.
"We can go back the way we came," Luke offered, trying to sound casual. The truth was, fighting to get back to the greenhouse was going to be a lot harder than escaping it.
Catalina shook her head. "We can't go back that way; the ink only creates a one-way portal. We can go through the closet doors, but the stairs won't appear until the ink is spilled."
"How do you and Melanie know all this, Cat?" Elle's voice was suddenly demanding. "And why not tell the rest of us?"
"I -" Catalina started, then stopped, running her hands through her hair. She looked as if she couldn't speak.
"I really don't think this is the time," Eric tried to distract Elle, but it didn't work. The normally enthusiastic and bubbly Elle was now furious.
"You came here more often, didn't you? All those nights when you said you were cleaning, or mending or doing paperwork, and you were going to bed in just five minutes - you were coming here! And you know he was creating those - those monsters, and you didn't think that might be something we would want to know? How could you?"
Catalina finally snapped. "Because I couldn't! Don't you think I would have said something if I could? I hated it. I hated coming here alone, I hated lying to every person I knew, I even hated dancing! But what was I supposed to do? I couldn't just leave, all hell would have broken loose again, a mess I hadn't appreciated picking up the first time."
Luke placed a hand on her shoulder, and she paused. The last part had obviously been a stab at Elle and the others, because Elle looked away guiltily. Connor and Eric stood by awkwardly.
"Besides," Catalina continued, sounding much more in control of herself. "I didn't have any definite proof of anything. I didn't know about the automatons until we got here...whenever it was. If I thought all this was going to happen, I wouldn't have let us come."
Elle only nodded, looking exhausted.
"So," Eric said, breaking the silence. "I don't suppose there's a third portal?"
"Not one I know."
Connor looked back over the lake. "Well, we can go back anyway. We're definitely not getting back this way, and at least we've got a chance at the greenhouse, right?"
"Yes. Let's go." Luke held tight to Catalina's hand as they trekked back to the lake.
At the shores, his face was promptly met with a swift uppercut.
Luke's head snapped back and his jaw throbbed. He heard a clang and the crunch of bone.
If Catalina had the energy, she would have screamed in frustration. Another automaton blocked their path, although this one was different from the others.
For one thing, this automaton was significantly shorter: its head only came up to Luke's collarbone. Its limbs were lithe and slender, and composed of wood, with rusting metal gears poking from its joints. It looked significantly more careworn than its iron cousins, and its body was streaked black from the lake.
"Wood floats," Eric groaned.
"And isn't deterred by silver," Luke grunted, rubbing his jaw.
Catalina's blood was boiling. She recognized the figure. Fortunately, Elle did too, because Catalina couldn't speak.
"Cat, that...thing...it looks like your dress measurements."
"I know," Catalina spat out, her voice vibrating with anger. She knew exactly what Rictadore had been up to all these years. Those letters she'd found several days ago, the mysterious purchases, the measurements...it all made sense.
"What?" Connor asked, hacking at the automaton's arm.
"I'll explain later," Catalina answered, looking desperately for a more effective weapon than a branch. Her sharp eyes rested on Luke's pantleg, but he was moving too quickly.
Eric's sword managed to hack off the automaton's right arm, leaving snapped wires and bits of gears poking from the stump. The automaton stuttered slightly, but did not stop attacking.
Connor darted behind it. "I'm not seeing a little control panel on its neck."
While the rest scrambled to keep out of the automaton's way, Catalina's brain was working as if it had gears. This automaton was the product of all the measurements Rictadore took of her; surely she would know how to disable it.
"The left knee!" she gasped to anyone who could hear. "Try to get the left knee!" She gripped her tree branch, ready to strike if she got an opening.
It was Elle who got the shot. Connor shoved the automaton backwards, intending to pass it to Luke, but Elle darted on, quick and nimble, and jammed her branch into its knee joint. Blue sparks flew, and the internal gears ground and shrieked. The automaton fell to the ground and grew silent.
"Are there any more?" Eric shouted to the sky. "Just send them now, and let's get it over with."
"I don't think that is how it works," Luke muttered dryly. Rictadore was playing games with them, wearing them down bit by bit.
"I know what this is all about," Catalina panted, pulling one of the boats higher up the shore. "And we have to find Rictadore."
"No way!" Elle cried. "He can rot here for all I care."
"No, no, you don't understand. That's what he wants."
As they rowed slowly across the lake, Catalina explained everything, the connections she had just made. Upon hearing it, Luke and Eric nearly capsized their boat in excitement. The pieces fit perfectly!
They crept cautiously past the fallen iron automatons at the pavilion, wary of them suddenly coming back to life. None stirred, but the image was disturbing. Luke was forcefully reminded of the battlefields after the fighting, when all that was left to do was collect the bodies of the dead. The memories made his skin flash cold.
"Have you seen any other buildings around here?" Catalina asked Elle. With her mind always occupied with the greenhouse, she had never really bothered to look elsewhere.
"I don't know," Elle whispered, hesitant to crack the stillness. "There might be something just beyond the greenhouse, but I'm not entirely sure."
The group made it up to the greenhouse without seeing any other signs of life. Catalina pressed her ear against the door and listened, although for what, Luke wasn't sure. Rictadore probably had a spell to make all his movements silent. But she shook her head, to say he wasn't there, and they moved past the structure deeper into the gardens.
It was darker here, and the various brightly-colored flowers thinned, leaving short grass behind. Although it looked soft and inviting, the girls' bare toes found it stiff and sharp.
There were no other buildings in sight, and with every step they took, the artificial light of this world grew dimmer. "Are you sure, Elle?" Connor asked.
"Yes! I mean, I was. I swear I saw something, I just..." Elle buried her face in her hands.
Catalina patted her shoulder. It might be better to simply forget the idea and turn back. Melanie may have already tried the ink. Rictadore could already be long gone, escaped into the real world or even to a portal to another place like this...
"There's something!" Luke shouted.
A tiny, ramshackle little building stood rather crookedly in the near-darkness. Catalina looked back, and was surprised to see that they hadn't gone nearly as far as she'd thought; the absence of light had made it feel ten times further.
Catalina insisted on listening at the door, despite many protests and pleas from the weapon-wielding men. She knew what noises Rictadore's machinery made, and more importantly, she knew he wouldn't kill her.
Or he would at least hesitate.
The only thing she hears was a peculiar, repetitive thumping. It was not like the high-pitched whining of Rictadore's tools. It was unlike anything Catalina had ever heard before.
She described the sound to the others, and Luke and Connor's faces lit up. They listened for themselves for a moment, then Luke tapped back. Positively beaming, Connor yanked open the door.
"Thank goodness!"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Melanie pulled at her hair and tried desperately to think through the continued chaos around her. King William was having guards escort the shouting Lord Pentron from the room; Meredith was squeezing her and crying; Ivy was sitting where Andrew had placed her and weeping as she clutched her chest; and the other girls were brainstorming other ways to save the prince and everyone else by naming all the objects Rictadore had made off-limits.
"Everyone! Just...please be quiet," she cried as loud as she could.
The dancers went silent and glared at her. "Why should we listen to you? You left us," Jessica said hotly.
"And you were never nice, anyway," Julia added.
"I just saved you all, didn't I?" Melanie snapped. "Now be quiet, so I can finish doing it."
"Seems ta' me tha' we 'ave ta' use th' ink again, miss," Andrew said gently.
Melanie frowned, and explained the limitations of the ink portal. "Plus, we don't know where Rictadore is."
"You think he can just appear and disappear here, too?" Clara asked fearfully.
"I don't know, I don't know how much stronger he has gotten since I've been gone. I just know we have to be extremely careful, and we have to find Rictadore. He can definitely make a portal if we can't find one."
"Then let's find him," King William said.
More members of the palace guard led the way into Rictadore's rooms. The king, Melanie, and Andrew were hot on their heels. Romeau went as well, and Annabella insisted on staying by his side, gripping his hand tightly. He rather liked the feel of her hand in his, and so put up no protest.
The door was kicked in. Voices demanded Rictadore come out with his hands up. No well-dressed figure emerged, carrying a walking stick.
Melanie burst into the room as soon as she was allowed and went straight to the desk where she had left the inkwell. She'd left it where it had been found in hopes of lulling Rictadore into a false sense of security, but that had failed miserably. The inkwell wasn't there.
Melanie abandoned any sense of order and stealth, yanking out desk drawers and upending their contents in a desperate search.
"We need to find it," she whispered to no one in particular, tossing aside documents and pens in frustration. "We have to find it!"
Panic rose in her throat when the inkwell continued to evade her. The others stood in the centre of her self-induced chaos, unsure of how to help.
"Your Majesty!" a voice from the hallway called. King William stepped outside, then rushed back in and peered out the small window.
"There he is," the king practically growled. Melanie dashed over to see for herself. A cloaked figure was mounting a horse in the palace drive as dusk began to fall. She could just barely make out his features, but it was indeed Rictadore.
"He'll get away," she groaned.
"Not on my watch," Romeau began to run down the hall. "Andrew! How do you feel about a little game of tag?"
Andrew's face instantly brightened. "We've got 'im now."
Melanie pressed her face against the window pane, never taking her eyes from Rictadore. King William left to follow Andrew and Romeau. Annabella, determined to keep Romeau safe, waited until her father had a substantial head start before rushing out as well.
Rictadore was acting as if nothing was happening out of the ordinary. He wore pristine riding clothes, and had traded his usual staff for a leather crop. He waited patiently for the stablehand to adjust the horse's tack, before calmly placing his well-polished boot into the stirrup. He didn't force his mount into top speed immediately, instead taking a leisurely trot.
Rictadore was nearly out of sight of Melanie's window by the time a score of guards burst outside. Half ran for the stable, including Andrew, while the king began directing the others. The poor stablehand practically threw himself to the ground to beg forgiveness.
The summer air was hot and thick on Annabella's skin as she raced across the lawns. She instantly cast her gaze about for Romeau, but couldn't find him. Instead, she watched in horror as Rictadore grew smaller and smaller on the horizon. Annabella fell to her knees. He was getting away, and taking her brother with him.
Andrew burst out of the stables, riding bareback, with the reins in one hand and a drawn sword in the other. Upon hearing the rapid hoofbeats on the cobbles, Rictadore knew he was found out. He spurred his horse faster, abandoning the facade. Andrew didn't flinch, simply leaned closer to his horse's ears.
Suddenly, Rictadore jerked in the saddle. The horse's scream pierced the air, reaching all the way to Annabella on the lawns. The horse bucked in fear, tossing Rictadore roughly to the ground.
Romeau stood at the entrance to the stables, bow and arrow in hand. An unknown emotion rose in Annabella's chest as she watched him string another arrow and stride towards the fallen dance instructor. Andrew kept riding, chasing after Rictadore's horse. As she raced to the drive, Annabella realized what the sergeant had done - he had pushed Rictadore's horse to the west, creating a better target for Romeau.
Melanie burst from the palace then, racing after the guards who quickly surrounded Rictadore. An arrow jutted from his left thigh, but the only sign of his suffering was the white pallor of his face. Otherwise, he was as calm and collected as ever.
"What on earth is happening here, Captain?" he asked of the guard gripping his arm.
"You are under arrest, by order of His Majesty the King," the captain answered brusquely.
"On what charges?" Rictadore's voice was still even and cool. He could have been discussing the weather for all the emotion he was demonstrating.
"Treason, and the kidnapping of His Highness Crown Prince Luke, several members of the royal army, Lord Braeson and a dozen young women."
"Whatever do you mean?"
Bile rose in Melanie's throat. She shoved past the circle of guards. "You make me sick," she spat at him. "Captain, check his pockets. We need an inkwell."
Rictadore's pockets were turned inside out, but the only thing they found was a handkerchief. King William himself demanded that Rictadore relinquish the possession of the inkwell, but for all his talk moments before, he was now stubbornly silent.
"I'm sure we can make him talk," Romeau grinned, fingering the feathers of his ready arrow. Melanie swore she saw a white ring appear around Rictadore's mouth.
"Not necessary, lad," Andrew appeared, walking both of the lathered horses. "Although fun. 'Twas in his saddle bag." He dropped the small, gleaming bottle into Melanie's palm.
Melanie hesitated.
She wanted to drop open the portal right away, but she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know what was on the other side. What if one of the iron automatons jumped through? Or some other mechanical creature? What if Catalina and the others hadn't made it to the greenhouse?
In the end, she stepped several feet away from the group and spilled a drop of the ink onto the well-manicured lawns. The dark hole appeared at her feet, and the smooth stone steps descended into blackness. Andrew and Romeau stood beside her.
"How long should we wait?" Romeau murmured, too softly for anyone else to hear.
"Five minutes," she answered, rounding up generously. "Then we go in."
It had been six according to Andrew's watch before he pushed her to make a decision. Melanie had no idea how long the portal would stay open without anyone walking through. Romeau shouldered his bow, ready to go through despite a small noise from Annabella, when Melanie stopped him.
"Wait! I hear something."
Silence roared up at them. "Lass," Andrew began.
Just then, a dark head appeared in the very corners of the portal. Connor's green eyes flashed up at them, smudged with dirt and blood from a cut on his hairline. Melanie didn't see his raised sword until he dropped it with a wide grin.
"It's all right! It's Andrew and Melanie and Romeau!" he shouted over his shoulder, running up the last few steps. Connor dragged Elle up behind him, lifting her up by the waist to pull her up into the real world in celebration. Annabella threw herself at her brother as soon as he appeared, nearly knocking him to the grass. Catalina nearly fell into Melanie's arms, so happy that, despite their rocky relationship, the other girl hadn't given up on them.
Eric was the last to appear, helping someone Melanie had never seen before climb the stairs. The man was in by far the worst shape of all of them; he was painfully thin, even compared to Catalina, and his clothes hung as if he'd lost all the weight very quickly and recently; his hair was long and matted, and he was in desperate need of a shave. There were bright red marks on his wrists, face and bare feet, with long burns in some places. Melanie never would have been able to name him to save her life, but everyone else seemed to know him, the king especially. He rushed over and took the man's other arm.
"Cat, who...?" she began.
"That," Catalina answered, her voice exhausted but proud, "is King Alfonse of Sylstran - the real king."
A brilliant flash of light cut off Melanie's next question. The portal had closed. Catalina anticipated Melanie's unspoken words and continued, "There is a man who claims to be Alfonse staying in the palace right now who is not actually Alfonse. Luke believes him to be the former dictator of Sylstran."
"Yes. Father, we need to find..." Luke turned to his father, but the king smiled at him.
"Stop worrying for a few seconds, son. We can take care of it."
Annabella still had a death grip on her brother anyway, so he wasn't about to go anywhere. He looked at Catalina; she was holding Melanie's arm and tentatively touching her toes to the ground. Dark spots had seeped through her bandages, but she smiled brightly at him.
Guards dragged Rictadore away, past the small knot of people. Elle came over to stand on Catalina's other side. They watched, unblinking, as Rictadore limped by, supported by guards on either side. He was the most disheveled they had ever seen him, and he only made eye contact for a few seconds before turning his gaze to the ground.
"Will we ever have to see him again?" Elle wondered.
"Not on my watch," Connor reassured her.
"I plan to charge him to the fullest extent of the law," the king said. "I still have no idea how all of you young ladies managed to survive this long under his guardianship."
"Well, no more of that," Catalina said. She felt a huge weight lift from her chest. For the first time in her life, she had no schedule. She could do whatever she wished, starting right now. She didn't have to dance anymore if she didn't want to. "We can finally start living our lives."
Elle breathed a huge sigh of relief. "That sounds so good. But, I think my life will have to start tomorrow."
"Why?" Andrew asked.
"I need to sleep!"
Catalina laughed and dropped her head to Elle's shoulder. A full night's sleep would truly be amazing.
Luke untangled himself from Annabella and grabbed both of Catalina's hands. "Well, then. Let's go."
They hadn't made it more than halfway back up the drive before a rush of people came flooding out of the palace. The first was, of course, Ivy, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks, and her engagement ring-necklace sparkling in the fading sunlight. Eric ran to meet her, caught her up in his arms, and swung her around in circles. Meredith, Albert and Melanie's grandfather swooped her up in their arms. The other dancers swarmed around, all talking and laughing and leaping, overwhelmed with the feeling of freedom that had suddenly taken over them.
Luke looked down at Catalina, her face shining with happiness. Her eyes sparkled, and she seemed healthier than he could ever remember seeing her. So this was what a new life did to a person. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her right then and there, but all the girls wanted to talk to her, and everyone was slapping his shoulder, that he could not get the chance.
Once they got into the palace, people began breaking off into smaller groups. Luke pulled Catalina down a little corridor, hoping to get a moment alone. "I'm so glad it ended well."
"Me, too," she said. "I - I want to say, Luke, that if I had known -"
"Shhh," Luke interrupted. "Of course you would have said something. But even if you had known what was going on, I doubt anyone could have done something to stop him. Those automatons were ruthless."
"We could have refused to dance," she said quietly. "It is the dancing that powered them. If we hadn't danced, they wouldn't have been able to attack us."
"And I'm sure Rictadore would have just punished you or found some other way to power them," Luke rubbed her shoulders. "It doesn't matter now, anyway; what's done is done. We did it, and that's what really matters."
"Mhm," Catalina laid her head on his chest. He held her a moment, and then cupped her face in his hands. Luke bent to kiss her red lips.
"Miss Torrez!"
Luke and Catalina jumped apart so fast, she nearly fell over a chair propped against the wall. A maid, her face a brilliant shade of red, stood nervously before them. "I was told you needed to see a doctor? Right away?"
"Yes, she does," Luke answered for her. Before Catalina could protest, he scooped her up and followed the maid.
The doctor refused to allow Luke to stay in the room this time, insisting that he go upstairs and check himself for any serious injuries. Catalina kept waving Luke off behind the doctor's back, mouthing that she felt fine.
"That young prince," the elderly physician grumbled under his breath. "He won't say if he's hurt, you know. You will have to be the one to convince him to take it easy."
"I promise to do my best," Catalina said.
"Good enough. Now, let's see what's under here."
He picked up a sharp pair of scissors and began cutting away at the tightly wound bandages. Melanie was surprisingly good at nursing, and it took a bit of time to get the wrappings undone. As the doctor moved from the knee to the ankle, and the wraps loosened, the feeling rushed painfully back into her limb. Catalina's head swam briefly, but she pushed past it. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
The doctor said something to her, but she couldn't quite catch his words. It was suddenly very difficult to concentrate on anything at all. The doctor's face was serious, and Catalina wanted to ask him why he had stopped removing her bandages, but found her mouth was not working. She blinked, suddenly unsteady in her seat, and her whole body ran hot, then cold. She felt herself relax, saw a flashing image of the lanterns above her, and then the world went black.