Thank you for the reviews everyone! Apologies for the all the cliff hangers.

Chapter Twenty Six -- Motley Taunts her Enemies

Letheo stared at her with a cocky grin; in his hand he was holding a key. Violet stared at him before she spoke, she wasn't quiet sure if was real or just a figment of her imagination. He wasn't the person she wanted to see, but in the circumstances she'd take whatever she could get.

"How did you know I was here?" Violet asked astounded, she had believed herself lost.

"I've been tracking Candy Quackenbush for my master, it just so happened that she led me straight to you," he answered truthfully.

Violet was glad that he was answering her questions, she didn't think she could stand it if he started playing games with her, and tried to score points for himself.

"Were you looking for me?"

"In a round-a-bout way, yes," he said studying his key. "Lord Carrion was extremely angry after you left, and was taking it out on me, so I was trying to find you yes…to take some of the flack."

He smiled.

"Is he still angry?" Violet asked nervously. If he was, she didn't think she had the nerve to see him again, and especially not with the news she would have to deliver, that they were now married.

Letheo shrugged.

"I don't think he will be best pleased with the latest events… but you could always relinquish your crown…" he suggested.

Violet nodded.

"Yes, I'll do that," she said solemnly.

"By killing yourself," Letheo added still smiling to himself.

"What?"

"I'll help you," he offered.

Violet felt herself growing angry, was he here to help her or not? If he wasn't then he could leave straight away, she'd find another means of escape if she had to.

"Calm down," he said sighing, and disappointed that she hadn't liked his jokes. "I'm going to free your friends, you should be pleased."

Violet frowned.

"And what about me?" she asked.

"What about you?"

"Aren't you going to free me too?"

Letheo shook his head.

"Motley hasn't finished with you yet, she has more plans. But I will try, afterwards, if you are still alive that is," he said grinning again and hopping from one foot to the to the other in his glee. He liked making her worry.

Violet shook her head; she'd had enough of his games.

"I don't believe you," she said. "How could you know all this?"

Letheo laughed, enjoying himself too much.

"The tiny stitchling works for Lord Carrion," he said gleefully, "I know all the plans… for you, and the baby…"

"Damn it Letheo, you know there is no baby!" she shouted losing her temper.

"Do I?" he challenged. "How should I know? I've watched you with my master, and I don't like it," he said accusingly pointing his finger in her face.

She slapped her hand away hard making him recoil.

"Show some respect beast-boy, I outrank you now," she said standing to her full height.

He faltered in his teasing. She was right, she did outrank him being the Queen of Midnight, and he only a servant. He hopped from one foot to the other in nervousness now.

"Forgive me your majesty," he said sarcastically, bowing before her. "I shall liberate your friends, I dare not risk escaping with you yet, too many eyes watching… I shall return after Motley has finished with you."

This hardly offered Violet any comfort, and she doubted whether he would return, but she had little alternative. She watched him leave, knowing that if he was telling her the truth, then the only one that would treat her with any kindness now was the tiny stitchling child.

Letheo didn't return that day, or the day following, and Violet began to wonder whether he had been telling the truth about Motley still watching her after all. She had seen no one since he'd left, except for the stitchling child, who brought her food, and helped her with her new and elaborate clothing.

Today she was being forced to wear some vile monstrosity of a dress, which had an enormous collar, which stood up like a fan behind her head. It was the by far the most uncomfortable dress, and the collar was heavy and dragged her shoulders down, giving her a headache. But she refused to complain, she knew it could be a lot worse. She could be dead for a start.

Something was happening today, they were taking too much care over her appearance. The tiny stitchling was fussing with her dress, and the old women who she had met before, were yanking her hair this way and that into doll-like ringlets. Violet was past caring how they made her look. But something about today was making her nervous.

"What's happening?" she whispered to the stitchling child.

"Mater Motley presents you to the public today," the child answered. "To hail you as the princess of Midnight."

"Why?" Violet asked. It hardly made any sense, any of this.

"To call Lord Carrion out. She wants the fight now, on her terms. She thinks he'll come forward to claim you back."

"That's insane," Violet snapped. "This whole place in insane. When can I get out of here?"

"You must be patient," the child said patting her hand. "He will come for you."

Violet wasn't sure if she meant Lord Carrion or Letheo, but either way the chances of either of them rescuing her were pretty slim. She wondered whether Letheo had freed Candy and her friends, or if he had been lying. But it was too late for any more thoughts, as she was being summoned.

The roar of the crowd made Violet feel faint. She had no idea what was expected of her. They had made her into the image of Midnight, covered in black satin and lace. Her eyes darkened and rimmed with coal on a deathly pale face. She was a child's nightmare, a perfect dolls face surrounded by deep dark black.

The stitchling child held her hand as they stood on the balcony, high above the subjects of Midnight. They cheered for her as their new princess, because they were afraid to do otherwise. Many recognising her from the papers, from when she had been an ordinary girl, a maiden from Midnight, somebody ordinary like them. She wasn't ordinary anymore. She had been their last hope for Midnight, now she was captured and changed.

"Don't leave me," she whispered squeezing the child's hand. "I'm frightened."

"Don't be scared princess, you have many friends."

Violet doubted this.

"People of Midnight, the time has come to chose your side. Against me you will fail, together this hour will rise up and take it's true place within the Abarat. I call you out enemy," Motley shouted, she turned and took hold of Violet's arm dragging her into the front. "Collect your princess of lies!"

Motley's hand struck Violet hard across her face without warning, sending her reeling to the edge of the balcony and clinging to the edge. Her face was stinging so hard that she was almost blinded by the pain. She touched her hand to her face, and saw that it was red with her own blood. Looking down she saw that the crowd had stopped cheering, and were staring upwards with a mixture of fear and hatred. She could see a mixture of expressions, and could identify clearly those that would help her, and those that would not.

Some began to jeer, they were Motley's supporters, they wanted Violet dead, others wore a look of outrage and fear. Violet looked up at the large screen amongst the crowd, Pixler's invention, it had televised Motely's broadcast, and she could see her own bleeding face now reflected.

Someone grabbed her from behind, a large man who leered down at her with broken and missing teeth. Violet screamed.

"Your time is over Christopher," Motley shouted. "I'm winning, I will win. Midnight belongs to me!"

"No," Violet screamed fighting the man away. "Get off!"

He was bigger than her, stronger, and her protests were feeble against him. She couldn't free herself; she was in his power.

"Did you think that I was stupid?" Motley hissed in her face. "That I didn't know? He'll come after you now, he won't be able to refuse after such a public humiliation."

Violet gasped as the collar was ripped from her dress. She was helpless, and the world knew it.

"Lock her up, let her starve. If you're lucky, he might free you before he dies."

They locked her in a small room, with only room to move a foot from side to side. There were no windows and no light, and sound couldn't reach her. The silence was deafening. The panic of being trapped only lasted a few minutes until her heart could no longer pound at such a rate and she leant against the wall defeated. She allowed tears to fall down her face and didn't nothing to stop them. She couldn't believe that it was the end. That she should die in such a slow and painful way, on her own, and in the dark.