Hanso's Journal

by Reese S. Quill

The thief needs a story too, right? So how did Hanso become the oh-so-charming one that saved Neopia? This when he's 7 to 18, when TFR starts. Written with the permission of amethyst3232.

37. January at Age 10

Okay, I'm promising myself that I will update at least once a week. I guess I can't tell you what day it would be—depends on what events there are and stuff-but ONCE A WEEK. Still, give me a break. This is the LONGEST CHAPTER EVER. It's +16,000 words!

The Month of Sleeping (January) Age 10

Week 1

You know that you're bored when you begin to actually miss school. It's weird, but there's something wrong just sitting around with your brain dead for a few weeks. I know that the kids in the normal schools (meaning not for thieves or guards—yeah, they do exist) get like the summer off for vacation or something, but hey, all they're doing all day is Math and stuff, so you can see why they want out. Thieves, though, actually like what we're doing. Most of the time. I mean, we do Math too, but we don't focus on it much…I just wish that Ancient Languages had been cut.

Another thing was Kayley. I had to patch things up with her. I had to. I know she was a jerk, but every time she did something wrong she always made up in a double-fold. She risked getting kicked out of the Guild so that I wouldn't be miserable anymore—if that isn't being good, then I don't know what is.

Plus, I have to admit; I need her help. Looking back, I'm in the exact same position I was last year. I seriously can't believe it! By now, I would've expected that we've defeated Masila, solved the Harry problem, fixed Hazel's troubles…at least that's one out of three. Sort of. I know that the big bully's still harassing the Rebellion (you know what, that is a cool name), but it's not as severe with Sam around. But the Mistress of Double-Cross is still waiting to strike, and now Hazel has the Tradition to worry about….

I blinked, suddenly realizing something. Guards start training when they're seven, just like thieves. According to Charlie, he and she are already seven years old. And it's January. I closed my eyes and nearly groaned—she'd already have left, and Charlie was alone again. Just because I couldn't keep better track of the time. Kayley would lecture me about this if she was here.

I took a deep breath. Things weren't gonna fixed themselves. Quickly, I walked to the rich kid's neighborhood, which felt cold and empty and desolate. As I passed the park, a gust of wind blew the on the swing, rocking it and making it creak. It was sad…and spooky. I hurried past it, down to where Charlie's Mansion was.

He wasn't there waiting for me. Okay, I guess I should've expected that—but then again, he'd always been there to welcome me (by which I mean drag me inside and give me a plate of cookies whether I liked it or not). I hesitated. Maybe he was somewhere else—but no, Hazel's gone and the park was empty. He was definitely inside. I squared my shoulders and prayed it was either him or Mrs. Daley who would answer the door. I rang the doorbell. Then I rang it again.

Nobody was opening up. Guiltily, I felt relieved. Mrs. Daley probably took him out to cheer him up or something. I turned around and was just going to go back home when-

"What do you want, boy?" a voice asked from inside. I jumped. This was definitely not Charlie or one of the Daleys; but it still had that strange, posh accent. There was something…weird about that voice, too. It wasn't Masila-type or anything, but I sensed that there was something wrong with it. I turned around slowly.

The guy who stood there could only be Charlie's Dad. He looked almost exactly like him, though a much bigger version. Like his son, he appeared to be slightly uncomfortable in his fancy suit and tie—it didn't seem to fit him. He had a roundish face. I wouldn't say it was unkind, but there was something awfully sad and weak about it. It wasn't like Caylis – that the things he'd seen were horrible – but it seemed like he went through a lot. The best way I could describe it was how Hazel looked when I first saw her; timid, quivering, and scared (not to mention ready to run off to the nearest tree).

"What do you want?" he repeated impatiently. I honestly don't know why, but his voice hurt my ears. I resisted putting my hands over them.

"Uh, is Charlie there?" I blurted out.

He stiffened. "Charles, you mean?" he said pompously. And for some reason, he said this really loudly. "What would the likes of you have to do with him, hm? Please don't tell me he's been cavorting with the wrong sort."

I flushed—I really wanted to give him a piece of my mind there and then. But I decided to play nice, just this once. Getting Charlie grounded or arrested by Mr. Daley for bad behavior is not a nice way for a first impression with an aristocrat. "Sorry, sir," I mumbled. "I guess I'll just leave then."

But before I could even walk down the steps, he grabbed my wrists. I stared at him, openmouthed. Okay, the guy went from cold to impolite to just plain creepy/stalkerish. I had to get out of there! I was just about to run when he let go of my hand. He had this shocked expression on his face, too, as if he also couldn't believe he did that. He shook his head. "I apologize, young man—that might've struck you as odd. Old reflexes, I guess…" he sighed, and had this sad look on his face again. "You really are much nicer than some boys in the neighborhood, you know. Don't tell me you play with fire?"

"No!" I answered quickly.

"Very good." He sighed again. "Awful, that gang who play around here—act as if they own the place. Well, they do, but only a part of it and not until they get their inheritance. I'm actually pleased that Charlie didn't join them-" Then he clapped his hands over his mouth, as if he said something he wasn't supposed to. He eyed the door quickly. "Sorry, I'm babbling again, aren't I? Now, you say you wished to now where Charlie….Charles is?" His voice went a whole lot quieter. I wondered why.

"Uh, yes sir," I said.

He nodded, and was about to say something, when a voice yelled, "DEAR! WHERE ARE YOU?" I guessed that was Charlie's mom. I pitied him instantly: her voice was uppity and commanding,

He cringed. "Yes, love?" he called.

"I need to go primping!" she hollered. "Where did you put the money bag?"

"In the cupboard, dearest," he replied.

"Get it for me!" she ordered.

"Right away! Just hold on a moment—I'm shooing this dirty little ruffian in the street." There was a cry of approval and a clacking of heels as I heard her go upstairs. Charlie's dad sighed with relief. "I'm sorry. I have to put on that I-disapprove-of-the-lower-class act for my wife, though I really don't mind. Like I said, you're a lot politer than most." He smiled, and suddenly he did look a lot like his cheerful son. "I believe he's in his best friend's house. Lady Hazel, to be exact."

I raised my eyebrows, suddenly realizing what was wrong with his voice. It seemed that everything he said aloud was a lie. It was so weird, but there was a hint of falsehood in all the stuff that he said. But it had to be the truth—Charlie wasn't on the swing, and I don't he'd lie to me. He had no reason to, plus he said I was polite. "You better go now," he encouraged urgently. Lie. But I knew it was true. What the heck was happening?

"DEAR!"

"Coming, my sweet!"

I decided I'd better figure it out after 'Dear' was out of eyeshot. Rapidly, I ran down the steps and sprinted for the main road, which I reach in record time. I guess getting chased by guards has its benefits. Walking down slowly to Hazel's house, I tried to think about what just happened. Really, what did just happen? I mean, for starters there was there was that guy's voice. I think he was being honest- again, he had no reason to lie to me, and there was nowhere else Charlie could be anyway. But all the while I was talking to him, I had that gut feeling I always had when what somebody was saying was untrue. I shook my head. Maybe it was just a temporary malfunction of my incredibly awesome truth-speaking powers or something. I didn't know.

But one thing's for sure—that guy was definitely caught by the Tradition. I haven't met Charlie's mom yet, but from how she sounded, she definitely wouldn't be the right match for him. Despite the whole lying thing, he actually seems pretty nice. But I didn't have time to think about that. Besides, he was a grown man. Sure, I try to help Kanrik a lot, but he's a guild leader and everyone's trying to slit his throat. A lord doesn't need me.

I sprinted to Hazel's manor, the wet dew making me slip a few times. It was farther than I thought, and by the time I got there I was panting. But I was on a mission. I rapped on the brass knocker and waited to be let in. When it opened, I blanched. I was so stupid. Really, I have to remember that Hazel has an evil brother.

"You," said Ebony. For some reason, his tone was more amused than heated. "I'm guessing you're looking for my little sister and her weirdo friend, yes?"

"Uh…" I mumbled, not sure how to respond to the person who nearly killed me at least twice, made Charlie sick, and tortured his siblings. Yet it was like he had a major attitude flip—at least, it appeared so. "Yeah. I guess."

His grin became wider. "Why don't you come in?"

"I'd rather not," I said, backing away a few steps. I remembered what Kayley said on the day of the fire: There could be a whole throng of guards inside waiting to ambush me. Okay, I'm not scared of them and I know I'd escape anyway, but knowing Ebony he'd make it a whole lot worse. "Can you please call them?"

"I could call them," he said annoyingly. I waited. "That doesn't mean I would, you know. You ought to correct your grammar. It was always your fatal flaw, ever since we met." He smirked, and suddenly I knew that nothing had changed. "Remember?"

"Oh, I remember," I said. "I remember you being pushed off the swing screaming by my little kid. And that you still couldn't manage to outrun him in a little chase a few months ago."

He gritted his teeth. "If you won't come in, then I'll just have to insist." Before I knew what he was doing, he went behind me and pushed me in. Then he slammed the door shut.

I'd never been inside Hazel's house, but I always assumed that it'd be a lot like Charlie's: Richly decorated, a bit of history in everything, and certain warmth and care that I thought had something to do with Mrs. Daley taking good care of it. But there, there was no nice housekeeper. The walls were all a cold, marble white, appearing to be made of ice. Everything seemed to be in a shade of grey or black, including the drab tapestries and carpets. Besides that were portraits of old relatives staring scornfully at the person, plus the only source of light to be a few candlesticks. I shivered, not blaming Ebony anymore for wanting to play with fire. Better to do that than to freeze to death.

A door opened, and a lady came in. I recognized her as Hazel's mom. She sure didn't appear evil, just compliant and fragile as Charlie's Dad. I hate the Tradition. Makes me glad I wasn't a rich kid—a bit weird, how you could have everything and never have to work a day in your life yet never being able to change. "E-Ebony? Who've you got there, dear? One of your nice, er, friends?"

"Hardly a friend, Mother," he said imperiously. He grabbed a coat from a nearby stand. "Mother, why does this smell like a dung heap? I thought you had already finished the laundry." I looked at him, shocked. If I talked to Mom that way, she'd have made me do it myself and lock me up in my room for a week besides.

"I had to sweep the floors-" she began.

"You have to do much better than that now that Father's here," he said. "Shall I go call him now?" Her eyes widened, but he was already saying, "Oh, Father!"

"Yes, my boy?" A large Usul called from the staircase. He looked a lot like Ebony, with the cruel and fancy demeanor and all. "Are we going out hunting again? You've gotten better with the rifle."

"Much better," Ebony agreed, giving me a wink. What was his game? You aren't allowed to shoot anyone in Brightvale or Meridell—it wasn't allowed, because are medical supplies were a bit more medieval than most and guns were too destructive. In fact, the only place I could think of people being able to use guns is outside of Neopia, like in Virtupets or something. And even then it was just lasers. Rules are that you only use it to hunt if you have a permit. Not one thief complained when Kanrik said that applied to the Guild also.

Ebony's Dad turned to look at me in disgust. "I smell poor person in here. Why have we not kicked him out yet?"

His son grinned. "I wanted him to have the pleasure of meeting you."

The Usul grunted in approval, and made his way towards me. I took a few moments to study him. He was wearing an expensive pinstriped suit – one that could've fed the whole Guild for a year – and a devilish grin that made me feel like he kicked beggars for fun. So. He's the guy that Violet ran away to the guards from, and as far as I knew, Hazel did too. Imagine if he was my father? I shuddered. He definitely wouldn't be like mine; a person who'd always been there, who thought me my first thieving tricks, who'd jump right in front of Kanrik's dagger, in front of the whole Guild, just to save me. Heck, Hazel's Dad would probably stab her himself.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he said, mock courteously. "I'm sure it's much better than whatever dump you came from."

"Oh yeah, real nice place you got here," I muttered, glancing at a few portraits of dead relatives. All of them seemed to be glaring at me. I guess they wouldn't have wanted a thief in their house, either.

The Usul man kneeled down so he was level with me. "This one appears to be a bit dim, don't you think, Ebony?" His son smirked.

"What did you just say?" I cried. I was getting tempted to take out my dagger.

"I mean," he continued, ignoring my outburst, "What kind of idiot would wander in my house, knowing full well that I'd destroy any muddy commoner to step over the threshold." Again with that leering grin, but now it was a bit creepier, more deadly. "But since I'm nice, I'll let you leave this once-"

"Hanso?" A voice with a funny accent said. Charlie hopped along the steps. His face broke into a relieved smile. "Thank heavens! I was beginning to think you abandoned us again…"

"Charles," Ebony's Dad said through gritted teeth. "I don't believe I gave you the privilege to invite filth into our house. You know very well that I let you in here for completely business reasons."

Charlie blinked at him. "Erm, yes sir. But sir, he's also Hazel's friend. Couldn't he just-"

"WHAT?" he roared.

Charlie realized he said the wrong thing. "Uh, what I mean by friend is just a weak acquaintance-"

"HAZEL!" he yelled. "Get your miserable face down here, pronto!"

"Yes, Daddy," she said in a tiny voice as she slipped down the staircase daintily. I was shocked. She looked awful. Well, not awful awful. The princess would have had to get a lot more worn to even begin to look ugly. But there was that horrible sadness and heartbreak that I first saw her with, the kind that seemed to make her small and fragile. She seemed so tiny that she almost looked like a six-year-old again.

Before I could stop myself, I said angrily, "What in Fyora's name did you do to her? She's absolutely traumatized!"

"I'm okay-" she began, but was cut off with a glare from her father and brother.

"None of your business, peasant," her dad said haughtily. "Hazel, did what I hear is true? Are you actually friends with this scum?" Before Hazel could say anything, he continued, "I mean, even your sister wouldn't sink this low! Befriending someone from the poor class. Bah! You have got to be the worst disgrace in our family history."

Hazel's mouth quivered, and I saw her warm, brown eyes were glistening with tears. Charlie gave her hand a comforting squeeze, and for a bit she looked better. But Ebony saw, and an evil sneer went across his face. "Father," he began, "Though I agree she has got to be the most worthless piece of junk in the mansion, I believe that she wasn't alone in this. Someone influenced her."

"And who would that be?" his dad asked curiously.

Ebony gestured straight at Charlie. The Kacheek's mouth dropped in shock. "Ever since she'd become friends with that little pest, she's been getting…ideas. Like girls aren't just for show, as if they could be something better. Silly things like independence and rights. Pfft, Charles might be a rich kid, but he's a bad egg through and through. You know that there are always a few in the family." Again, he stared pointedly at Hazel. "And you know, Father, those rule books where dear sister Violet found that little loophole of joining the Guards came from his house."

His dad nodded. "I was actually considering the fact of forbidding Charles to set foot in our house again. That thought pleases me."

"Y-you can't do that," Charlie stammered, going over protectively beside Hazel. "My Father contributes a major source of goods for your caravans-"

"What are going to do to stop us from taking her?" Ebony taunted. "You can't even run a few paces before you start getting going blue. Weakling."

"That was your fault!" he snapped.

"Now, now, children," Ebony's dad said, amused. "If little Charles doesn't want to go willingly, I guess we'll have to do it by force." Suddenly, he lunged forward and grabbed the Kacheek by his collar.

Hazel let out a little scream. "Let him go!"

All eyes turned to her. "What. Did. You. Say?" Her dad said, dropping Charlie on the floor. The rich kid was panting heavily, and he actually was a little bit blue. Hazel backed up, biting her lip. "Because girls shouldn't talk unless they're spoken to. They are supposed to stay in the background and look pretty, though dear Fyora you even have trouble doing the last part." He glanced at the Kacheek again. "You know what? He is a bad influence on you. You are hereby banished from here," he said to Charlie. He turned back to Hazel. "As for you, you've been nothing but a trouble-maker since your nanny left. It's time to knock that silliness out of you." He grinned. "And your sister."

Hazel and Ebony gasped, but for different reasons. Ebony grinned in delight. "You mean-?"

"Yes, son," he said, smiling with triumph. "I'd finally gotten a big haul last year, enough to pay back that cursed debt your cursed sister made when she joined the guards. Using the money your mother gave her—see? That's why women shouldn't think. We're bringing her back." He could afford to get Violet out of the guards…? Sweet Fyora, no! And as much as I didn't like Miss Firecracker, I wouldn't wish my worst enemy staying in that place.

Hazel made a strangling noise in her throat. Both her hands were on her mouth, trying to muffle it, but the guys noticed and just laughed. "Go ahead, Hazel," her dad said. "Write to her. Warn her what's going to happen. She can't escape—and neither can you." He grinned. "You made a wise decision today, not going in the first place. Then it would've been a double punishment for both of you. Oh, and you two," he said, finally acknowledging Charlie's and my presence again. "Out. Now."

We both looked apologetically at Hazel, but we all understood that we had no choice. She gave us one last sweet, sad, smile before scampering to her room. Then Ebony grabbed us by the shoulders. "I believed my father told you to get out," he said, pushing us to the snow.

"Funny, I thought you were the one who insisted I go in," I shot back.

"And now I told you to get out."

"And now I'm telling you to get lost!" I snapped.

He just laughed. "You'll never be able to save her, you know. Not with that weakling in tow. Soon, my other little sister will be joining us again and we'll be one big happy family. No outsiders this time, especially not a posh, snooty, rich-kid traitor slash outcast who cowardly let a girl give up her only chance of getting out just so he could-" before he could finish the sentence, a snowball hit him right on the face.

A bit of snow was missing from the ground near Charlie. "Leave Hazel alone," he said in a heated voice. Ebony just laughed again, slamming the door behind him.

"Well," I said, trying to cheer him up. "At least you got one in his face."

"If only I got his father," he muttered. I never saw the cheerful Kacheek so depressed. Even after the fire, he was okay with everything. Just as long as Hazel was there.

"What happened?" I said, deciding to skip straight to the point. "I mean, it's January and stuff. Shouldn't she have been off to join the guards, even if it did turn out to be hopeless in the end?"

"She should have," he said mournfully. "But she wouldn't leave me. Said that she didn't want her best friend to stick everything out alone, especially since it was her own brother's fault that I couldn't join the guards myself. It wasn't today, even. She decided it last month. When you went to your Christmas feast, Violet and her had an awful row about it. We've both been trying to talk her out of the decision ever since."

"What did Violet say?"

He shook his head. "Nothing a 'proper gentleman' like me should say," he told me, smiling a bit. "But it wasn't good."

"So let me get this straight. Hazel's stuck here, but by her own choice. You shouldn't feel guilty about that, by the way," I said. "She's technically being held captive by her family. Violet might be getting sent home soon, because with some miracle her Dad managed to find the money to pay off the debt that her tuition cost. And judging by that, we're in a whole deep of trouble."

He nodded. "Oh, and did I mention that fifteen years was the maximum age for them of getting engaged? It is perfectly fine for them to do it before. I expect that once they have Violet properly in their keep – therefore taking away direct outside help – they'd probably start looking for suitors for them."

"Sweet Fyora," I said. I looked at his face; still sad, still remorseful. I could tell he probably hated Ebony and his dad more than any other person in the world. Maybe even more than I hate Masila. A bit weird, since he never struck me as the vengeful type—but I guess he was protective of Hazel. I could understand that.

"What's worse of all," he said bitterly, "Is that she didn't go with the guard. Which means I still have her." He looked at the protruding, mansion. In that light, it did look like some sort of evil warlock's castle—just like one of Timmy's stories. "And I just lost her again."

Week 2

It was awful to leave Charlie in that state. He's mostly happy-go-lucky most of the time, but anything about Hazel and he just goes bang! I guess he's a bit protective of her. It's not hard to see why, though: with her evil brother and father, who can help getting worried about Hazel? No offense to her, but she's not actually the strongest in her family. She's compliant, which is easy to understand. Her brother beats her up for no real reason, and Miss Firecracker really is a bit controlling.

Still, her mother should've done something. Anything! I can't picture Mom just standing there while Dad yells at me. Now that I think of it, I can't even picture Dad yelling at me. They're both too nice—I guess I was just lucky like that. Not many of the thieves in my class have as great parents. The twins' just mostly ignore them; Razor's mom pushed him into becoming a thief; and Kayley looks angry and lashes out whenever somebody tries to mention them. The same goes with the guards I know, too. Violet, obviously, but also a lot of others. I never knew what happened to Brynn's dad—did he leave or die (a bit morbid to think like that, I know)? Sam has Marie, but his dad got killed (at least that's what I can pick up from the golden war medal on Marie's mantelpiece). Plus, he has an evil auntie.

It's a bit sad. I have a feeling that those parents who just stand by and watch, maybe they've never grown up themselves. I'd hate to see Charlie and Hazel shifted into those categories: Ruthless and commanding or obedient and tortured. It's horrible. I'm so glad that I wasn't born a rich kid—and I'm promising myself that I'm going to help those who were. Even though they do 'explode' at anything I say.

I wonder if Brynn knows about the Tradition? Probably not. Violet's not the sharing type, and it'd be too painful to tell anyway. But I think she'd reveal a bit more of her past to Brynn eventually. They've been friends for years. Then again, that's been the same with Kayely and me (sort of) and I still don't really know a thing about her.

I was thinking all of that as I plodded through the last of the year's snow. It was all turning into mush—soon, we'd really be back in school. I was okay with it. Like I said, I was even beginning to miss it. And I think that, whether Kanrik wins or not, one way or another Masila's threat will end. Whether that means she's going to become the guild mistress (*shudder*) or be defeated is another thing.

A lot of fog swirled around me, making it hard to see. But I kept walking. It seemed like the only thing I could do, these days. I don't dare to steal, even if it's still lockdown and I'm technically allowed to talk to Brynn. I hate to admit it, but I'm a bit scared of those Assassins. So I usually go where they probably won't: the Middle Passage. I think it's named that because the alley-way is between the Thieves' Guild and the Rich Apartments, a sort of cross between rich or poor. The place where the middle class really go is the marketplace, but I liked using the path as a shortcut to Charlie's house. Old houses leaned backwards comfortably, offering plenty of hiding places should the need come. The road made out of cobblestones felt sturdy and strong. Not many people go there. I've always felt a sort of connection to it, you know? It really was my sort of place.

But I guess that day it wasn't as deserted as I thought, because I heard a creeping noise of someone coming in behind me. Before I could react, the person stepped out to the light. I inwardly groaned. It was Nort. "What do you want?" I snarled, glaring at him. We barely made eye-contact since that fiasco with Kayley. I still don't hate him as much as Ebony, Harry, or Masila, but I guess I learned that even normal bullies like him could be cruel in their own way. "It's bad enough to see your ugly face in the Guild. Are you stalking me or something?"

He smirked. "Already decided that I was someone to be feared? About time."

"Feared?" I spluttered. "Why would I be scared of a stupid finger-pointer like you? More like seriously annoyed. I'm getting out of here."

His smirk changed to a scowl. "I still think you're the spy."

"No, you just want to get promoted. Slimy little social-climber you are, you actually told Kanrik that Kayley was the spy just because she said so. You wanted to get a promotion."

"That's one reason," he said. "Another is that she's completely disrespectful. Changing the topic, though, didn't you believe that she was the spy too?" I didn't answer. I still felt guilty about that. He started smirking again. "Or perhaps you were relieved that someone else was taking the blame for you? You really are a clever little spy, aren't you? Getting an accomplice so that nobody expected it. Why, even I didn't figure it out until-"

"You didn't figure out anything!" I yelled. "I'm not the spy!"

"Liar," he replied.

"I can't lie. I'm a-" I paused. I didn't want Nort to find out that I was a truth-speaker—I'm starting to find out that the more people know, the more they use it against me. Not in the evil way, but kind of like what Mom did in Christmas. She used my obvious weakness to get me to admit that Dad said something wrong.

"You're a what?" Nort pressed. "Oh, that's right! A spy!"

"Am not!" I snapped.

"Not surprising, really," he continued. "I mean, given what you are…"

"What? Incredibly handsome? Why, thank you, but that wouldn't be a reason for me being a spy-"

"Who your parents were, stupid," he said. "Bad blood, you know? My father said that when they had you he suspected that you were going to turn traitor or something one day. Look what you've done already! Gotten three members of the Guild demoted-"

"Two of them tried to kill me," I said. "And your dad is just a slimy little nitwit."

"And your dad is an idiotic, mindless slave while your mother is a helpless, scrawny bimbo. Though of course you already knew that." I wanted to strangle him, but something he said made me pause.

"My mom is not helpless," I said angrily.

He raised his eyebrows, and suddenly, a small grin came on to his face. "Sweet Fyora. Are you actually saying that you don't even know? Oh, this is too rich!" He began laughing uncontrollably. I gritted my teeth, trying to calm down. "You don't know! Ha! Your parents probably thought you were too weak to handle the truth, huh? No wonder! So you're saying that you didn't know they hated each other the first time they met? Did you know that your mother and one of Kanrik's top thieves nearly had a fight to the death? You didn't know that your mother actually got that thief arrested and sent to Darigan Citadel on purpose? You don't know why it was Marie in particular who taught her?"

"She came late-" I began, but again there was uncontrollable laughing.

"She came late! Hilarious! I'm guessing you didn't know that at that point Marie was already retired and off the Guild? Oh, this is just priceless."

I hated him. But what really got to me was that those comments were true—I'd have known if he was lying. Did what he said really happen? Mom would never get anyone arrested on purpose, let alone kill someone. There had to be some logical explanation for this….right? I was getting agitated.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want," I grumbled, starting to leave. "Keep those little inside jokes to yourself." But before I could go, someone grabbed me by the shoulder. The hand was too strong and buffy to be Nort's. I turned around to find a huge Kougra standing over me. "New bodyguard?"

"Several bodyguards," Nort said matter-of-factly as several other people popped up. They were all huge and hulking.

"Dave likes big people," the Kougra said. He grinned stupidly and pounded himself on the chest. "Me big."

"Very big," I agreed. Under my breath, I said, "Though he obviously didn't choose you for smarts."

"What that?" he said suspiciously. I pretended to shrug.

"So, what are they here for, Nort? A big people party or something?"

"Or something," Nort replied. "Y'see, shunning you didn't do a thing, though I admit I liked watching you be miserable. Going to Kanrik didn't help either, since he would only listen with proof (as if that's important nowadays). So we're trying to beat the answer out of you." As if this was their cue, all the 'bodyguards' cracked their muscles.

I glowered at all of them, and then quick as a flash I released myself from Dave's grip and took out my dagger. "You really think you're going to beat me that easily?" I spat. "Listen, I survived Masila, Kanrik, guards, prison, and a fire. What makes you think I can't defend myself now? Sure I'm outnumbered, but I'm definitely not going down without a fight."

"I wouldn't advise you to use that," Nort said, grinning. "It would only take one injury for us to show Kanrik and claim that you attacked us. And we wouldn't even be lying." I stared at them, eyes wide. "And you know what, you're probably not going to be the only one that's in trouble. Your parents, friends, oh, and maybe that poor little kid-"

"Leave Timmy out of this," I snarled. I was seriously caught. I couldn't risk getting Mom or Dad in trouble, let alone everyone who knows me.

He laughed. "I didn't leave your little accomplice's kid out of this." I had this feeling of dread. Did he do something to Lilia?

"Shut up about Kayley," I told him through gritted teeth.

"Aw, how cute. They're not just accomplices. They're friends."

He guffawed, but I wasn't giving him the satisfaction of taunting over what happened. "I've not been much of one to her lately," I admitted. "But I'm definitely going to be. Because she's honestly been a good one when she tries, saving me with messes and-"

"Unfortunately, your little friend isn't here to save you now." With that, all his bodyguards slowly stepped closer to me, all anticipating beating me up.

Then they got hit by something red.

"It's the red rain again!" someone yelled. And suddenly, they all scrambled. My jaw dropped—they definitely were not the sharpest knives in the drawer. I began smiling, and turned to Nort.

He was not happy. "Get back here, you idiots! It's just some stupid trick one of the freaks from his class cooked up again-"

"Freaks?" Kayley asked, finally stepping out of the shadows. You really can't believe how well she can fit in when the background is dark. She laughed bitterly. "Are you really dumb enough to call me a freak?" She grabbed him by the collar. "I thought we settled this a few weeks ago. But if you want to do one-on-one combat, that's fine with me."

Nort started squirming, so she just tossed him out the snow. He turned back. "This isn't finished!" he yelled, but backed up when Kayley took a step towards him. Coward.

"As far as I'm concerned, it is," Kayley replied promptly.

He looked at us one last time with an evil leer. "I'd be more careful about friends, Miss Secretive. Or else they'll all end up like your little one." In response, she threw a red cupcake to his face. He ran away screaming something about the world ending.

She shook her head. "They're all the same." Then she stiffened. She whirled around and suddenly threw something that looked like a fire-orb right at me, and I ducked, wondering what was that for. Then I realized it was some sort of light—and it revealed a cloaked figure. I nearly gasped, but the size showed me that it wasn't Masila, even if the person was cloaked. He or she (I couldn't tell) ran like the wind. Kayley followed a few steps, but then realized that she couldn't catch up. "Shoot," she muttered. "Escaped again."

"Who was that?" I asked.

"That, Hanso," she answered, "Is somebody who I believe is the real spy." I gaped at her. "What? You don't think that the number of suspects is limited to people you know, did you? I've been suspecting that one for months, but the trickster slipped through my fingers time and time again. Today, I was so close. Then obviously I had to stop by and keep you from getting beaten up." She glared at me, as if it was somehow all my fault.

"Who do you think it is?" I asked eagerly. "Come on, maybe I can help!"

She shook her head. "Even if I tell you, that identity would probably change."

"What?"

"Never mind," she snapped. "Are you fine now? Can I finally go back to catching criminals in peace?"

"Um," I said. I looked at her. She looked paler, colder, sadder than the last time I saw her. "You didn't have to save me."

"I haven't been keeping to my resolution," she admitted. "But I couldn't just watch you get killed. Those boys actually looked like they wanted to do it, and I wouldn't underestimate Nort not giving the order to have you punched within an inch of death." She glanced at me sideways. "And besides, that was a nice little speech you gave. But it's useless, you know."

"What's useless?" I asked.

"You trying to be a good friend. It's not going to work—I already told you, we're never going to be friends. Though of course I'd step in for life-or-death situations. I'm not that cruel."

"Why not?" I said. "Why can't we be friends, I mean, not why you couldn't be cruel-"

She rolled her eyes. "You just don't trust me, and that's never going to change." Before I could say anything, she continued, "Not that I really blame you, though. I do have a few secrets that I'd rather not let discovered."

"But Kayley-"

"There's nothing you can say that'll change my mind," she said, and I could tell that the matter was closed. "Now, is that all?"

"One more thing," I said. "What happened to Lilia?"

She cringed, and suddenly she didn't look fierce and firm anymore. She looked sad and bitter, frozen and cold as the snow. "Nort's dad still has some power, though not as much since we were eight." She looked down. "But, well, he was still allowed to decide certain things. I-I'm not allowed to take care of Lilia anymore."

"What?" I shrieked. If that happened to Timmy and me – if I wasn't allowed to look after him – I didn't know what I would do. "But that's not fair! We should go tell Kanrik-"

"The Guild leader has more important jobs. You should know," she said. "Besides, she was getting mocked enough for being the 'little black-hearted spy-in-training.' I did not want her to go through that."

"She loves you," I said. "I mean, she even gave you a fake potion to try and help-"

"Fake? FAKE?" Kayley cried. I stopped. I said exactly the wrong thing. "Look, Hanso, Lilia might be four, but she's not stupid. She knows what's real and what's not. That potion she gave me was one of Tarla's mystery concoctions."

I gawped at her. "The lady from Terror Mountain? But how'd she get down here?"

"Apparently, she wanted to make a little tour or something. I guess she felt sorry for Lilia, or maybe saw something in the future or whatever. Anyway, I took it to Razor immediately, and he said it was genuine. Even offered to do anything I wanted just so he could get a sample," she said with a snort. Then her voice turned angry again. "That little hill-side visit? That's the last time I saw her. And chances are, I'm never going to see her again."

"Don't think that," I said. She looked near tears. Briefly, I wondered what the little kid did to make Kayley care so much. "I'm sure we'll-"

"We?" she snapped. "You're not being very helpful, are you?"

"Hey, it's not like you're giving me information," I shot back, sick of playing nice.

"Look who's talking!" she said. "I still don't know where you went for those two months!"

"It's for a reason-"

Before I could say anything else, she shoved the potion in my hand. "Here!" she shouted. "If you want to be helpful, this is what you got to do: Find the spy. That's the only thing, truly the only thing, that'll clear my name. And for that matter, yours."

She left then, making me feel worse than ever.

Week 3

Okay, can this month get any worse? No, I take it back! Things always get worse after I say that. Anyway, as you can probably guess (or not, you are a journal after all), I just had a pretty bad day. I haven't run into to Nort or Kayley again, thank Fyora, but I keep wondering about the latter. Is it really possible that Kayley found out who the spy is? I didn't detect any lie, but she could still think it's the truth and I wouldn't notice. But I guess I shouldn't press her for any more details. I'm doing a lousy job at helping everybody right now.

And besides, she gave me the vial. Now that I examined it more closely, it really does look real. The bubbling liquid was a threatening shade of pink (don't ask how a shade of pink can look threatening), with wisps of smoke sometimes escaping from the stopper. I've kind of taken to carrying it with me, just in case I need to use it. But what would I use it for? That's what kept bothering me. So, what, do I just throw it on a random running away person and a giant magic sign pops up and says, He's the spy! Somehow, I don't think so. All I can say is that tiny glass bottle is feeling heavier and heavier in my coat pocket.

I walked around in the marketplace for a bit. I knew Brynn wasn't there, but there was something slightly comforting about seeing the grown-up guards at the castle gate, ready to protect her at all cost. Still, I couldn't help thinking that they probably wouldn't be much use against Masila. If I really do try and help, I'm sure that she wouldn't hesitate on ordering an Assassin to slit her throat. I'm sure that a member of her Guild would rather die than fail her. It pretty much equals to the same thing anyway.

Then I saw a surprising sight. My jaw dropped. Ebony's dad was crossing the square towards the marketplace, all dressed up in a fancy suit and all. But unlike Charlie or his Dad, it didn't make his look sort of uncomfortable and homey. It made him look…intimidating. He was dragging Hazel by her arm, actually trying to seem like a loving father but failing. She was obviously miserable. I wondered why—then had a feeling of dread.

I followed them a bit more. I was right. They were heading to the castle, ready to get Miss Firecracker and ruin her life forever. I knew I couldn't just walk up to them—the guy would simply call the guards and say I did something wrong. I'm well-known enough to actually get taken to jail immediately, and then it would be too late. I had to watch.

After awhile, I noticed I wasn't the only one stalking them. Charlie was going behind, but doing a poor job of it. He kept making mistakes—like, he was so intent on his target that he forgot that he could bump into people. I shook my head in disbelief. At least he got one thing right: He stayed in a far enough distance so Ebony's Dad wouldn't notice him. I think Hazel knew he was there, though. She kept stealing glances behind while her Dad wasn't looking.

Charlie and I got as far as the guard gates before we had to stop. I didn't have enough time to sneak inside—sure, the training barracks was a piece of cake (or should I say cookie) but I had a feeling that the office or whatever they were going to discuss Violet had a lot more security. That's when the Kacheek finally noticed me. "Hanso?"

"No. I'm Violet," I told him. He cracked a smile. "What's happening with the Princess and the Firecracker?"

"Nothing good," he replied worriedly. "They're both there to bring Violet back."

I groaned. "Is there something we can do?" He shook his head. Then I realized something. "Hey, aren't you banned from seeing her?"

"Not technically," he said. "If I recall, he said banish you from the house. Well, we aren't at there house, are we? So the rest of Neopia is fair game."

"How'd you figure that out?" I said, gaping at him.

He shrugged. "I just pay attention to words. Wording is always very important. Or so Mrs. Daley says."

It was mostly a useless conversation. But we needed something that'd distract us. After awhile, I decided that the tension was killing me and that jail would be better than staying outside and doing nothing. But Charlie beat me to it. "I'm going in," he told me.

"What?" I said, even though I was planning to do something similar. "You'd be a lot more use out here—it'd be ridiculous to go inside now."

"I can't stand not knowing what's going on," he said desperately.

"Neither can I,' I admitted. "But we can't sneak inside-"

"Why must we go inside?" he asked. "Why not just look into a window?"

I mentally kicked myself. "That'd be okay, I guess." I grabbed his hand, and we slipped into the garden. I remembered going in there once in the overgrown part for Brynn's birthday, two or three years ago I think. It seems such a long time. Faintly, I remembered getting yelled at by Kayley on what I was doing there and why did I give the necklace up for Brynn. You know, if she asked me that question again I still wouldn't have an answer.

We crouched below the tall grasses, creeping in unseen. The dirt ruined Charlie's outfit, but he didn't seem to care. I guess he just wanted to see what was going on. We both went a little farther – smiled slightly when I passed the window of the dining hall – until Charlie tugged at my arm and said, "I think perhaps that's where Violet's schoolmaster's office is. She showed us on that little tour, remember?"

"Good memory," I said approvingly. We scooted near it, finally seeing Hazel's father, teacher, and Hazel herself in the office, as if waiting for something. I was guessing that was Violet, probably delaying the moment for as long as possible before she had to face her dad.

"Sorry," the Draik man apologized. Thankfully, the glass wasn't sound-proof. "Maybe Sam wasn't the best candidate—I'll ask one of the staff to get her. Please wait a few moments." So Sam was 'getting' her. I guess he was helping delay the moment, too. I just hoped he wasn't spending time with his evil auntie.

"What kind of place are you running here?" Hazel's dad grumbled, but he'd already left.

"Daddy, please," Hazel whispered. "Let Violet stay. I'll do anything-"

"Silence!" her father ordered. He glowered at her. "I let you come here as bait for your sister, not as a treat. If you cannot behave yourself, you wait outside until I have your sister in tow."

"But-"

"That's it!" he roared. "Out!" Hazel reluctantly scampered away through a side-door (a door leading from another room), closing it behind her. But there was a peep-hole, and I guessed that pair of big brown eyes were peeking at them that moment.

"The nerve!" Charlie muttered. "You can't order someone out of somebody else's office!" He looked like he wanted to strangle him.

"We can't do anything about it yet," I pointed out. "Let's just get as much info as we can."

At last, the Draik man came back. "Sorry, he just had a mix-up—asked the wrong student. I can't imagine why, he's known Violet for a very long time. She's even a member of his little club."

"Little club?" her dad asked.

"Certainly," said the Draik man, smiling. "I don't exactly know what it's about, but I think it's called the Rebellion."

"The Rebellion?" he echoed, his eyes turning to slits. "What a funny word. It stands for change, doesn't it? New ideas. Sometimes very bad ideas." It looked like his resolve on taking Violet out had solidified.

The Draik man shrugged uncomfortably, noticing he said the wrong thing. "Erm, where's your sweet little daughter?"

"Hazel had to go outside for awhile. She was misbehaving."

"That little girl? She was behaving like a perfect princess." Charlie and I both smiled. Hazel's dad glared at him. "Not to question your authority, of course." There was a knock on the door, and suddenly the tension in the room was an all-time high. "Come in."

I blinked in surprise as Sophia opened the door. What was she doing there? My surprise went even bigger when I saw Brynn. They were both on either side of Violet. "I asked for just Violet," the Draik man said sternly.

"And Violet isn't going anywhere without us," Sophia insisted. She had a fierce determination on her face, something she didn't have when I first met her. I'm so glad that I got her to be friends with Brynn.

"Little girls," Hazel's dad said. "I want to see my daughter."

Violet cringed, and she clung on to Brynn's arm a bit hysterically. I wondered if she'd act that way if she knew Hazel was watching her. "Don't leave me!" she pleaded to her friends.

"I'm not going anywhere," Brynn promised. Sophia nodded in agreement. I couldn't help admire them for that.

"Brynneth! Sophia!" the Draik man shouted angrily.

"This guy has our friend more afraid than we've ever seen her," Sophia stated simply. That was definitely true. Violet looked even more scared of him than Harry. "We stay." The Draik man sighed and gave in, grabbing two extra chairs nearby.

Hazel's dad looked at him disapprovingly, but opened his arms as if for a hug. "Right, my girl," he said, pretending to be a doting father. He wasn't really lying—there was nothing false about it. But the pasty, fake way he said it made my head scream lie lie lie!

He began putting his arms around her, but she kicked and punched him, making him step back. He frowned at her, half-angry, half-confused, as if this wasn't the way he was used to being treated. I smirked slightly. She wasn't his little slave anymore. "Stay away from me!"

"Violet!" he cried, as if shocked. I guess he had a good reason. Nope, she was definitely not that docile little girl he remembered, but there was something else as well. Something that she probably got from her years in the guard, or standing up to Harry, or maybe just being Brynn's friend. She had a bit more self-confidence—and even though it was clear she was scared, she wasn't afraid to show she hated him. His face had a hint of scorn in them. Changing tactics, he said, "Your brother has been worried about you!"

I snorted. Charlie glared at the window. Worried? Yeah, right. More like eager to start torturing her again. Even the Draik man raised his eyebrows—I bet he remembered how he had behaved when he chased the little kids. Violet scowled. "My brother," she spat, "Saw me a few months ago. And my brother also didn't seem too pleased to see me."

"He probably didn't recognize you," her Dad said as an excuse.

"Oh, he knew me all right," Violet snapped. She glowered at the memory, her nose wrinkling and her hands clenched into fists.

"Violet, he misses you so much!" he insisted.

"True," Charlie whispered. "He missed having a punch-bag that would cry out, instead of taking it quietly like Hazel."

"He can go die for all I care," Violet said angrily. Harsh—but I couldn't really blame her.

Insulting her brother was probably the snapping point for Violet's dad. He probably saw his son as his little pride and joy or something, and it's not hard to see why. They're spitting images of each other; even though I just met him, I don't know whether I hate Violet's dad or Ebony more. Anyway, he roared at Violet, "Don't talk about him that way!"

This time, the Draik man threw him a suspicious glance. The thin mask of a 'loving father' was becoming more and more convincing, especially since it was obvious who the guy's favorite was. That didn't stop him from trying to slip it back on. Choosing another strategy, he said, "What about your sister? She's so quiet now these days."

Charlie tensed, and in a harsh whisper he muttered, "You made her quiet, knocking the 'bad ideas' out of her, you disgusting, slimy little mortog-"

"Oh, so you traumatized her too now?" Violet yelled. She looked nearly as angry as Charlie, like she wanted to crush something. I wonder how Hazel herself was reacting. "I don't believe you! You ruin my life! You trust the servant over me, you favor my stupid bully of a brother and then, having sent me here where I'll be out of your hair, you decide to traumatize my sister? What did we ever do to you?"

Sophia, Brynn, and the Draik man gaped at her outburst, like they couldn't believe it. Her dad's face reddened and turned fierce. The guy might be horrible, but he was also smart. He knew when his cover was blown. No longer trying to act, he cried, "Violet! You don't talk to your father that way!"

"Oh, I can," Violet shouted back. She stared at him defiantly. "I don't care anymore!"

Famous last words.

"You've lost all that sense of discipline your mother and I used on you throughout your life!" he screamed at her. Sense of discipline? I thought. More like terrifying her out of her wits. Besides that, the Draik man looked mildly offended, like her dad was questioning how well he ran the class. "You have no idea where the boundaries are! I'm going to have to take to take you out of the Guard and sort it."

Violet stopped shouting and looked at him, stunned. Then suddenly, she fell on her knees. "Oh, dear Fyora," Charlie said. "She's too proud to beg unless it's absolutely necessary. Things are bad."

"Please don't take me back," she said quietly, staring at the floor. "Please don't." And for a moment, I forgot how she wouldn't listen to my excuses just because 'I was a thief,' how she nearly creamed me more than once if Brynn hadn't stepped in, even how she had betrayed Brynn herself once. That moment, I just felt sorry for her. And I saw what she was going to have to face if she went back—a weak mother who wouldn't stand up for her own daughters (NOT a good role-model), a brother who'd beat her up until she was half-dead, the humiliation of seeing her old 'friends' again, a little sister that would be disappointed that their only hope of escape had been dashed, not to mention a cruel father who'd do anything to keep her miserable.

Violet looked at her friends and teacher imploringly. The Draik man sighed, and said, almost regretfully, "He is your legal guardian, Violet. So if he wants to take you home, there's nothing to stop him." Violet's head bowed with defeat, her hair all over the place.

Her hair was messy. I really think it was that one tiny detail that got me to wake up—and someone else, too. Probably realizing this was the final chance for someone to step in, Hazel opened the door just a crack. All eyes turned to her, and for a minute there was complete silence. "Daddy," she said in a soft voice.

Her dad was furious. It was the second time she stood up to him in the same month. "Get back outside!" he yelled. "I told you to stay outside!"

She whimpered. "I just wanted to see Vio-"

"Out!" he shouted. "I'll deal with you later."

Hazel's brown eyes widened with fear. But before she could obey the command, Violet got up and ran to her, giving her a hug. Hazel looked so small in her arms, looking more like that terrified six-year-old more than ever. Violet said something to her, though not loud enough for even anyone in the room to hear. Luckily, I knew a bit about lip-reading. I'm sorry, she was saying. I thought I was safe. Hazel hugged Violet even more tightly, her knuckles going white.

But their dad was not happy. "Put each other down immediately!" They both quickly jumped back from each other. Hazel ran to the door. After she left, something told me that she wasn't peeking anymore.

Temporarily distracted by the Hazel's outburst – which was probably the little princess's plan all along – Violet's dad said, "I must deal with your sister for now." Then he glowered at Violet one last time. "But I will be back, my lady. And you will learn your place." Violet glared at his back, right up until he went out of the door.

"Hazel!" Charlie said suddenly, jolting me from my thoughts. He took off, sprinting to where he knew the entrance was. I blinked; for a guy who had a heart problem, he sure was fast. Then I looked back at the window and saw that Violet was gone. Brynn and Sophia ran chasing after her, though I knew they wouldn't get there in time.

I sighed and rushed after them. I had a feeling that this wouldn't end well. I found Violet had beat both her father and Charlie to Hazel, and she was trying to comfort her. "Don't worry, Haze, I'll think of something…."

"I know," her little sister replied.

Both were lying, though maybe for good intentions.

"Thanks for sending me more letters," Hazel mumbled. "You gave me loads more than usual."

For a moment, Violet looked confused. "But Haze, I always send you the same amount of letters every week-"

"You really want to get taken out of the Guard now, do you?" said their father spitefully when he saw them. "I gave you a brief reprieve, and look what you're doing with it! Crying over that useless piece of-"

"Hazel is not useless!" Charlie said angrily, panting.

"Then she's good for nothing," he replied. "I thought I told you to stay away from her! You really are a persistent little idiot, aren't you?"

"You told me to stay away from her house."

"And a smart-aleck, too," Hazel's father said. Then he smiled evilly. "But perhaps I should thank you for persuading little Hazel not to go to the Guard. Who knows, I might not have been able to take both of them out, which would've saved them."

"You….you….." Charlie couldn't think of anything to say, but he was red in the face.

"Guards," Violet's father mused. "Think their so tough, what with their weapons and proper 'training.' They don't even have the back-bone to do some real damage to the thieves. That's right, I'm talking about you," he said to Violet. She took a step back. Then he grinned again and looked at Charlie. "Though your cousin is a bit more honorable…"

Charlie glared at him. "I hate my cousin."

He laughed. "Blood is blood, isn't it, my girls? Nothing you can do will change that. You, little trouble-maker," he said, grabbing Hazel by the ear so she cried out, "You're spending the rest of the month and the next in the cellar, peeling onions and catering to your brother's every need."

"Like usual," Charlie said bitterly.

"Oh? You think it's not a good enough punishment? Why don't we add in cleaning the attic, too? You know, where all the ghosts are?" Violet glowered at Charlie, and Charlie glowered at her father. They both stayed silent this time. "Good-bye, maggots," he said to them. "I'll see you soon."

"You absolute stupid-head!" Violet yelled when the guy was out of earshot. She was directing her insult to Charlie. But instead of the sometimes funny tantrums she puts, this one was serious. She shouted until she was hoarse. "She already had a bad enough punishment—why do you have to make it worse?"

"Don't blame him," I began.

"What are you even doing here?" Violet screamed at me. "It's probably your fault that Hazel got in trouble in the first place. If she stayed away from you two…"

"And stayed miserable?" I countered.

"Oh, and you're thinking your presence changed that?" she snapped. She looked at Charlie, her face livid and furious. She was angrier than I've ever seen her before. "This is all your fault!" she shouted. "If you hadn't gotten hurt…if she never met you, she'd be okay and we'd both be safe. But noooo, she has to choose the most annoying, inconvenient piece of rubbish that I've ever seen, and she has to suffer for it to. She hates cleaning the attic—Ebony's pushed her down the stairs more than once. And the cellar? She has to cut up onions in the dark, which makes her cry, and if she doesn't do the laundry perfectly she's shut up in a closet for an entire hour. Besides that, now she has the Tradition to worry about, and she's probably going to have to marry someone horrible, because she just WOULDN'T join the Guard no matter what I tell her. And it's all because of-"

Charlie turned red with rage again. But what he said next was not what I was expecting. "I bloody well know it's my fault!" he yelled. That shut her up. "I know. I've been hating myself because of it, and I know I'll never in all my life be able to make it up." He looked at her in the eye. "But no one, not even you, will be trying harder to help her. I assure you, Violet, she will not be alone. Not this time." She stared at him.

Then she fell to her knees, tears streaming on her cheeks. "She's my sister," she whispered pitifully, a huge contrast on how she was acting a few minutes ago. "She's my sister, and I failed her…"

"We both did," Charlie said.

"Hey! What happened here?" A familiar voice said. Sam sprinted to the scene, his eyes troubled. He leaned down next to Violet. "Look, Robin Hood, he's not going to get you…"

"Yes he will!" Violet said hysterically. "And even if he doesn't, he already has Hazel and he's going to ruin her life and it'll be my fault…and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise!" she added when she saw him open his mouth.

"Oh, I don't know," said Sam playfully, sadly. "I'm very persuasive." But she kept on sobbing. He sighed. "But I guess sometimes I need a little help." Then, almost comically, he pulled out a cookie from his pocket. "Want a cookie?"

"Does it look like I want a cookie in a time like this?"

"Eat it, Vi. It'll make you feel better. Promise." Violet threw him an odd look, like saying, He's finally cracked if he thinks a cookie can make me feel better. But she bit into one anyway, and instantly her features relaxed. "Sleep," he ordered, and in a moment she was snoring peacefully. "Do you want one too, kids?" he asked Charlie and me.

"That gives only a false illusion. I'd rather not, thank you very much," said Charlie. I shook my head too.

"Well, sometimes false illusions help, even for those who'd rather tell the truth." He looked at me in a strange way—not because I was a truth-speaker, but it was like he knew something I didn't. Then he turned to Charlie. "Don't listen to Violet's dad. You're nothing like your cousin; I should know."

"You know who he is?" Charlie asked indecorously.

"With a little bit of help from the name thing," Sam said. "Harry, right?"

My jaw dropped. "Wait….you're cousins with Harry? Why didn't you tell-"

"Why didn't I tell when I found out that it was him who'd been torturing Violet? Well, because he'd never listen to me and it'd be absolutely pointless. We absolutely loathe each other. I did not want to lessen Firecracker's opinion of me even furthur. Besides, we've only seen each other a few times, and he's not even technically my cousin. He's my third cousin twice removed on my father's side."

"Oh," I said.

"Again, you're not your family," Sam said. "I should know." He made a face, then looked at me. "Hanso, you should go see my mum."

"Why?"

"Mum's good at figuring things out; and you have to admit, her advice works. Your mum goes to her, too. It might help with a few problems—including…" he looked at Charlie.

"Okay," I agreed.

"I better go," Charlie said. "I can't have Mrs. Daley worried, can't I? Bye, Hanso." He had a sad face on. All I could do was to watch, wishing that there was something I could do to help.

Week 4

I went to Marie's house quickly. I've been there a few times, but not so much that I got used to the run-down feel of the place and the desperate looks. No wonder most people here were thieves. Besides that, there was that lingering feeling that this place used to be beautiful once, before something…happened. I wonder what.

Anyway, I was all set to knock the door when I heard voices inside. For a moment, I decided to come back later. Then I heard who was talking to her. "It's stupid to resist, sister. I've already won, I have enough power, and next month the final step will completed the Guild will be mine."

I tensed. It was Masila. Final step? I thought. Oh, no. That meant killing Kanrik. I listened a bit more.

"Then why do you need the necklace?" Marie said. "If you have enough power, you don't have to have it. You don't even know that it's in my possession."

Masila laughed; a sweet, deadly sound. "You're the only one who knows that I had it. As for why I need it…well, I don't. I could get on and take over the Guild with or without it, but I want some assurance that some irritable thorn will not use it against me. Promise that you don't have it?"

"How will you know that I will not be lying? That isn't part of your talent."

"No," said Masila in an amused tone. "But it's Hanso's, and he's right outside." Then I realized that her voice was getting louder and louder, like she was walking to the door. Before I could escape, it swung open and she pulled me inside. "Now," she said to Marie, holding her dagger's edge to my neck. "Answer. He will tell me if you are lying."

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Because you are a terrible liar, and if you even attempt to fool me I'll kill Brynn," she said calmly. She had me caught again.

"No need for violence," said Marie testily. "I swear on my life I didn't steal it."

Masila paused. "Is she lying?"

"No," I said truthfully.

She sighed. "Well, as you know it's mine, and if you do see it you will return it to me. Got that, sister?" she said.

"I'm not breaking the tradition," Marie said, folding her arms. But there was a sort of bitter little smile on her face. "If you want it and I have it, you steal it."

Masila laughed again. "With pleasure."

"Like you could," I muttered. "Kanrik'll throw you in jail, where you belong. And that's coming from a crook."

Masila's smile instantly vanished. "You think your little leader is so great, hm? No prison can hold me, Hanso, except death itself." Her piercing eyes looked at me greedily, like a thought just occurred to her. "You know, I don't have that much use for you anymore. I can kill you now and not lose any sleep because of it-"

"No," Marie intervened. Her smile was gone, too. "There will be no more killing in this house."

"But sister," said Masila in a persuasive way, her voice going all thick and sweet. "He won't be here to bother you anymore, and as you very well know he's Kanrik's weak spot-"

"I told you never to try talking to me like that again," Marie said in a dangerous tone. I blinked at her. As far as I knew she was no truth-speaker, yet she resisted Masila with perfect ease. Was she just used to it, or something? "Out, Masila. No more killing in this house, like I said."

She huffed and let me go. "All right. And Hanso," she said, turning to me, "Your Guild will be in shambles and its leader destroyed before the end of next month. Enjoy life when you can." With that, she went out of the house.

"Sorry about that," Marie said when she made sure Masila was gone. "She always gets a bit testy before one of her 'big plans.'"

"Aren't you going to do anything to stop her?" I cried. "She was practically cornered in your house!"

She looked at me for a long time. I squirmed. "I made it clear from the very beginning of Kanrik's and Masila's battle that I was neutral. I will do nothing to disrupt her or his plans, but neither will I help them. And please don't try and change my mind. Both sides have caused quite a bit of damage to my family." I nodded. "Next question?"

"You didn't listen to Masila, even when she was being persuasive."

She smiled, again a bit bitterly. "Another way you could be unaffected by a persuader. When the worse thing imaginable happens to you, then petty words just don't matter anymore. It's come in useful more than once."

"Oh," I said. "And the necklace? I didn't know she'd be the type to be really interested in jewelry."

"She's not," Marie said. "It's a magic necklace."

"You know, when you add the word 'magic' to something it suddenly becomes important. A magic necklace. A magic rock. A magic school bus. What gives?" I complained. "What does it even do? Why does Masila want it?"

She sat down thoughtfully. "Well, that is an interesting question. I can't explain that—but I think I can show you."

"Show me?" I asked. "How?" Without a word, she took out a crystal ball from the cabinet. "Wait, you're a fortune-teller too?"

"Oh, no," she said. "This is a useful item I picked up a long time ago. I don't use it very often – it'll get stolen, no doubt, if people saw me use it – but it's helpful at times. It lets me see parts of the past, unless it's blocked by magic."

"What do you want me to see?" I asked curiously.

She tapped the glass and told me to do the same. "Close your eyes."

As soon as I did, there was this whooshing feeling I felt, like something was swallowing and spitting me back out again and again. I gritted my teeth, fighting against it. If this is what magic felt like, I think I'll just stick to doing stuff the old fashioned way. Then it all stopped, and when I opened my eyes I was in a whole different place—in the outskirts of a snowy village. Terror Mountain, I guessed.

"My old home," Marie told me, appearing at my side. "This is where it all started."

"What started-?" I began.

"Watch." I looked at a bunch of kids, maybe around six or seven, playing with a ball. Except for two girls. It didn't seem like they didn't want to play- in fact, I caught them staring longingly at the game from time to time. But the other kids shunned them, so they just braided each other's hair or chatted silently, all alone in the world.

"Hey! That's you. You're one of the girls," I realized. Seven-year-old Marie was pretty but small. But the most shocking was the lack of sadness in her eyes. It was like even if she wasn't joining in the game, she was still cheerful, with a bright smile that assured it was all going to be okay. "And if that's you, that must be…"

"Masila," Marie confirmed. She also had an optimistic expression on her beautiful face, smiling hopefully at any person who came near her. After a few minutes, someone did. But it wasn't to say hello.

"Oh, look," a purple Grarrl said. "The freak sisters are back."

"Shut up, Galem," said Masila, turning her back on him.

"Shame that you're so weird and weak, Masila," he continued. "You have such a pretty face, though I bet your parents rotted you to the core. Yet they're always away- traitors, my dad said, to the Guild. You're lucky they're still accepting you two!"

"I said shut up," she snapped. "If Kanrik was here, you would never say that."

I gasped at what she said. "Yes," Marie told me. "Once upon a time, they were friends."

"I'm not scared of that upstart Gelert," Galem proclaimed. "Besides, he's way over there on the other side of the mountain, probably having his hands full with little sister Layeela. He doesn't need another problem. My father is the leader of the Thieves' Guild, and someday that's what I'm going to do be. The most powerful one ever! Kanrik would be lucky to serve me."

"He'd be twice as the leader as you'd ever be," Masila spat. I gaped. Woah, opinions sure do change over the years.

"Think you're so tough, do you, girl?" he clapped his hands, and suddenly a bunch of neopets surrounded her. It strangely reminded me of getting cornered by Nort—and to my shock, I felt sorry for Masila.

"Go ahead," she said bravely. I cannot believe I just described Masila as brave. "Beat me up, like you did last time. I don't care."

Galem sighed. "Pity. I guess we'll just have to beat up your sister again."

Masila's eyes widened. "No!"

But Galem's group had already grabbed little Marie and twisted her hands. She cried out, and was forced to her knees. Someone true a piece of fruit at her, and then another, and then another. The grown-up version of her winced at the memory. I looked at little Masila, and she stood shock-still, horrified. Then her eyes turned to slits, and her expression turned into something I'd seen in her as an adult. When she spoke, her voice was angrier, deeper, commanding. Persuasive. "STOP!" Everyone froze. Even the petpetpets stopped buzzing. She glowered at the lot of them, especially at Galem. "If you know what's good for you, let her go. Now." They all took a step back.

Galem gawped at her. "Wow. Masila, how did you-"

"I said," she continued as she helped her sister, "Shut up." He was instantly silenced. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

Little Marie nodded. "Uh-huh. How are you doing that?"

"Doing what?" Masila asked, confused.

"They're all doing what you say!" she said quietly. "That never ever happened before!"

"They are?" Masila looked at the group, who stood as if they were awaiting her commands. "Oh. They are." She stood upright again, and said in her most sugar-coated voice, "Never come near my sister or I again, unless it's for friendly reasons. If you dare bully us, especially Marie, you will. Be. Sorry." She said it fiercely and convincingly, but I knew that she had nothing that could back-up the threat. Still, they all ran screaming from her.

Except Galem. For a second he hesitated, and then said, "Maybe you're not the bad sort after all. You want to sit with us at lunch a few times?"

The sisters glanced at each other. "Uh, okay."

The Grarrl nodded and went after his friends. When they were out of earshot, Marie squealed. "Oh my gosh, Masila, did you see that! They did everything you said! That was amazing!"

"Yeah," said Masila, looking dazed. "I don't know if I could do it again."

"Maybe there's something in the library," Marie suggested. "We could look it up-"

"Oh, no," Masila said, folding her arms. "If you want to research something in the library, count me out. I bet the thing with the voice was just a fluke."

"But what if it isn't? What if you could actually use it?"

Masila shook her head. "I'd rather not know."

The scene shifted, and I had to close my eyes and feel that uncomfortable sensation of being flushed down a toilet again and again. But it turns out you could talk, because Marie said while I was still being enchanted, "I dearly wish, even though it would've made life harder, that I had kept well enough alone. I was curious, and sorely tempted by the fact that Masila could keep away our tormentors by the power of her voice. The library in Terror Mountain is not as grand as Brightvale's, but it had some information of it."

When I opened my eyes, I saw Marie reading by candlelight. She was in a cozy though smallish and poor-looking room. It had two beds, one with a blanked of light blue and another of dark indigo. A bunch of old toys and trinkets were scattered around. There was also a desk, which was where Marie sat on. There was a rapping on the door, and Masila entered with her hands on her hips. "Oh, for Fyora's sake! Reading about those silly stories of talents again?"

"They're not silly," Marie said placidly. "You're living proof of that."

"Marie, that only happened once! Once! I doubt it'll ever happen again." Marie put her hands on her lap and smiled. "What are you smirking about? Come on, we're missing dinner."

"Why don't you put it to the test?" Marie questioned. "If the talents really are fake, then I doubt you'll say no to a little test. We have nothing to lose, and a lot to gain."

"Nothing to lose? Galem lets us sit with him now, and no one dares picks on us while we're with him. If we lose that-"

"Then the test won't be with Galem. Though really, sis, I'm getting a bit worried on how much time you spend with the guy."

Masila snorted. "Don't be. I still hate him, but if he keeps us safe, then I'll hang out with him for as long as he wants."

"You mean if he keeps me safe," Marie said, her tone guilty. "Look, if you really do have this power then no one will be able to tell us what to do-"

"They don't do it now."

"But you're still forced to do things you'd rather not," Marie reminded her. "Come on. It'll be fun!" Masila rolled her eyes, but nodded in defeat. "Okay, so here's the plan. You know that necklace Mother and Father guards night and day? It's like the prettiest thing the family owns, and we never even got to see it! I dare you to convince them to hand it over to you."

Masila raised her eyebrows. "Hm. Tempting. Okay—but dinner first!"

"All right," Marie agreed, and they entered the dining room. We didn't have to change the scene—we simply walked in.

For the first time, I saw a glimpse of Marie's parents; they were plain-looking people, but there was a sort of toughness about them. And iciness too, I noticed. Neither the sisters nor the parents acknowledged each other, until Marie nudged Masila after they've eaten. She sighed.

"Mother? Father?" said Masila. They both looked up, frowning. She took a deep breath, and said in her persuasive albeit shaky voice, "Remember the necklace that you guys are always talking about? The most prized family heirloom?" They nodded. "How come Marie and I have never seen it?"

"It's too precious," their father said.

"But one day, it'll be our job to guard it, wouldn't it? We should see how it looks like, at least." Her voice became more confident as she kept talking. "What if someone stole it. Then we saw the necklace, and since we didn't know it was ours, we just let the thief go. How would you like that? And I'm eight and Marie's seven. We've joined the Thieves' Guild already, so we're definitely old enough-"

"The Thieves' Guild doesn't know about the necklace. If they do, they'd most surely confiscate it," their mother warned. "You have to keep it a secret. Are you sure you want to be bundled with such a burden?"

"Yes," Masila said with conviction. Their parents nodded to each other, and the mother went upstairs. After a few minutes, she came back carrying a box. She opened it, and inside, set on a velvet cushion, sat a beautiful necklace. "It's pretty," Masila said after a moment. "But…why is it important?"

"Because it's magic," their father said. I rolled my eyes. Typical. "It enchants the person so that their talents, whether it be strength of will, speed, or persuading," at this, the sisters' eyes widened, "It will increase so that none in the world would equal their skill."

"So you only have to put it on-?" Marie asked.

Their mother bit her lip. "Perhaps you're a bit to young…"

"No we're not!" Masila shot a glare to Marie, that plainly said, leave the talking to me. "Look, we already have our jobs and stuff. You've shown as this much. You can't stop now."

Her mother agreed. "All right, perhaps not. No, you can't 'just put it on.' There's a special spell that is needed to activate it. None of the family knows where it's hidden, but whoever finds it and uses it on the necklace could be one of the most powerful people in all of Neopia."

"But then, if it doesn't do anything without the spell, why do you so closely guard it?" Masila asked. Her voice sounded even sweeter. "If you truly want to protect it, then you should give it to someone people would never suspect would have it. Namely, me. Why would you give it to me so young? But I'm very capable with the dagger already, and it'll be my job to protect it someday. I might as well start now. And it'll help you relax your minds, knowing that it's safe with me."

"Relax our minds," they echoed. Marie also looked at Masila transfixed, but her sister subtly pinched her arm. She winced and sort of woke up. "Very well," their father said. "That's actually a good idea." And just like that, they handed it over.

"Now, I think it's time for bed," their mother said. "Come on." With that, their parents went to their own room.

"Oh wow, wow, wow!" Marie exclaimed excitedly. "It worked! It worked!"

"Yes," said Masila, with the same dazed expression as before. She looked at the necklace in her hand and smiled. "I wonder what else I can do?"

The scene shifted again, and this time they were a bit older. Ten or eleven, maybe. I watched as Masila looked amusedly at Marie while her little sister was stealing. "Oh, stop looking so smug," Marie huffed in a playful way. "You only got the amount of stuff you required faster because you sweet-talked the villagers into giving it to you."

"Maybe," said Masila. "But I'm still a better thief!"

"Is that so?" said Marie. "Then why do I have your necklace?"

"Hey! It's mine!" Masila cried. "Mother and Father gave it to me-"

"Only because you used your voice," said Marie. "If you want it, steal it."

Masila grinned. "With pleasure."

Then there was a sort of montage. I saw them thirteen, then fourteen, then sixteen, stealing the necklace back and forth from each other. Once, Masila poured a sleeping potion in Marie's drink; then she disabled all the noisy alarm systems and took the necklace while Marie was slumbering. Another was when Marie forged a look-alike and had it replaced while it was being polished. "Wow," I commented. "You two were close."

Marie nodded sadly. "You can see why I don't want to choose sides, even though I know what Masila does is wrong." There was a short silence, then she said abruptly, "Each talent has a price, Hanso. You might already know that. For you, for truth-speaking, you can't tell lies. And since you're a thief, that is a big weakness."

"Then what's Masila's?" I asked eagerly.

She winced. "She can't tell if someone truly loves her or not. She could get anyone, anyone in the whole of Neopia she chooses, and they would be forced to do as she wants. She can't tell if someone was truly loyal. At first, that wasn't a big problem—when she liked a guy, a local heart-breaker really, called Reynard. But then he became tired of her voice; which, though sweet, was always insistent. He kept going to this other girl, and Masila kept forcing them to break up."

"That had to hurt."

"Indeed. As time went by, her heart became colder and colder, until she was convinced that everyone would betray her should she trust them; and power was the only thing that could fill the void. She even eventually shunned me. That's why her last breakup hurt the most."

"Which was?" I asked. As if to answer my question, the scene shifted into one in what I guessed was the base of Terror Mountain. Masila, Galem, and Kanrik were there, all probably eighteen years old or so. I blinked when I saw Galem kept looking at Masila. "Wait, him? But-"

"Watch," Marie said simply.

"You've really climbed up the ranks, haven't you, Kanrik? Second-in-command, eh?" said Galem. Kanrik nodded numbly. There was something in his expression that was sad, as if he'd just experienced something painful. "Hopefully you won't be like the last one. He lasted about….oh, five minutes, wasn't it, my dear?" She nodded. He laughed and slapped Kanrik on the back. "You'll do fine—do you know your place?"

"Yes sir," Kanrik said.

"Good." The Grarrl nodded approvingly and went on his way. "Masila, welcome him and teach him the basics." Masila, who started to follow, nodded and turned around.

"I know my place," Kanrik muttered to himself. "That doesn't mean I like it."

"Still a bit rebellious, aren't you?" Masila said. He jumped.

"I didn't know that you were here. Er, I meant no disrespect…."

"It's fine," said Masila, waving the problem away. He smiled at her. "It's been years! How've you been?" Then she winced, as if she realized it was a thoughtless thing to say. "I'm sorry; I forgot. You've obviously not been fine. The only survivor of the plague…and Layeela…"

"Yes, well," Kanrik said, looking down. "These things happen."

"It's not your fault, you know," Masila said. Her tone was persuasive again. "You were a brilliant brother to her, and I know that you did all you could-"

"Marie told me stories about you incredible persuasion," Kanrik said, grinning slightly. "Are you lying just to cheer me up?"

Masila huffed. "It's persuading. Not lying. It's not your fault, and that's the truth."

Kanrik shrugged, clearly wanting to change the subject. "What about you? News reached me that you were the new Queen of the Thieves' Guild. Is that right?" Masila nodded. "I have to admit, Masila, I was….surprised. You loathed Galem when we were kids."

"I still do," she said unblinkingly.

He stared at her in surprise. "Then why are you his…?"

"For a high-up position. What else?" she said.

"I never thought you'd do that. Lie so you'd get a position."

Masila raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I've done many things, Kanrik. Is your opinion of me still so high?" He nodded. "I should've known. You were always the most loyal…anyway, it's better than not being important. Better than being nobody."

"You were important," Kanrik insisted. "At least to me."

She smiled, and took a step closer. "I always did think you'd be a better leader than Galem, you know," she said. She went even closer.

But with that, Kanrik drew back. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "But as I said, though I might not like it, I know my place." He practically ran away.

Masila looked surprised. Slowly, a small smile entered her lips. "He truly is the most loyal," she whispered to herself. "I wonder how long it will take to bend him to my will?"

"He never did," Marie told me. "He never obeyed her orders without thinking about it for himself; partly because he was also a persuader himself (and therefore a bit more resistant), partly because he was loyal. In time, he truly did like her, I think—not because of her voice, like all the other guys, but because she was…Masila."

"You mean evil?"

"After all you've seen," Marie said, "You really think that she's completely evil?"

I bit my lip. "It's a bit harder to judge when you hear the whole story. But hey, if she liked Kanrik, then why is she trying to kill him now?"

Again, the scene shifted, and I saw two people carrying this huge coffin. The Bringer of the Night, I realized. Masila was supervising on where to put it. When they finally set it down, she said, "So, what news? Kanrik has not talked about it...tired, he said, and he promised to tell me later. But I'd rather hear it now."

"Don't blame him, ma'am," said one of them. "He spent all his time with that Usul adventurer Hannah- anyone with her would definitely feel tired. She was like a bouncing ball of energy!"

"Though polite, too," added the other one. "There's something fishy about her, like you can't keep a secret when she's around. Think he was lying when Kanrik mentioned his sister and a village dying?"

Masila stiffened. "He never tells anyone that," she whispered to herself. "Not unless the person is close…."

"Are you all right, ma'am?"

"I'm fine," she said. She leaned back on a rock. "I'm fine."

"What? She thought that Kanrik liked Hannah?" I cried. "Sure, he did, but not that way. I think…" I looked at Marie, and she waited for me to get it. "I think he liked her because she reminded him of his sister."

"That was my opinion too," Marie said. "But no matter what I say, she won't listen to me. Anyway, you know what happened. She convinced him to release the monster, she poisoned him and left him to die, and she went without a trace. At that time, I still had the necklace."

"Then what happened?"

Marie snapped her fingers, and suddenly we were back in her living room. "I'd rather not let the crystal ball show this part. The point is, she came to visit me around when Sam was little, asking to get the necklace. I was shocked, to say the least, since I believed that she was dead like everybody else. But I knew better—I knew that she hated Kanrik, even at that time. I knew she became more power-hungry than ever. And I refused. But….well, something happened that made me forget about it for a few days."

"Your husband died?" I guessed.

"Yes. To this day, I still think Masila had something to do with it. That was the worse thing that could ever happen to me, and suddenly I became immune to her little talks. But she took the necklace."

That was when I was confused. "If she had it years ago, why didn't she attack then?"

Her face darkened. "There could be a number of reasons why: for one thing, she might not have found the spell yet. Mother and Father never did tell it to us, but they hinted it was hidden in a very difficult place to find."

"But…?" I said, because I knew from her expression that there was something else.

"Her heart turned hard and cold to almost everyone. But when she came to visit me—I'm not sure of this, but I think she became attached to Sam then. Perhaps—perhaps she was sorry that she took away his father, for nearly turning him against his dreams. Perhaps she knew, that with Kanrik and the thieves gone, that I wouldn't be able to support him and that his life would drastically change, maybe for the worse. Who knows? Perhaps she might have even remembered the good old days, when we were friends."

"But who has the necklace now?" I pressed. "Neither of you have it, since you said so…do you?" I asked when I saw her tricky expression. She smiled. "But…how? You said that you didn't steal it, and I didn't sense a lie."

"I said I didn't steal it," she said with a wink. "I never said I don't have it."

With that, she took the necklace out of her pocket. It still looked the same as it did in a flashback, though maybe a bit more dented and worn for the years of being stolen back and forth. "But who stole it?" I asked. "I mean, I'm sure that none of the Guild would help you—no offense. And Kanrik would never agree to sneak into her hideout."

She smiled. "When I suspected that Masila would come straight here when she found that the necklace was missing, I knew that there are a couple people in the Guild who are also loyal to me. Who care about family and friendship before the Guild, who's stubborn attitudes make them question what they're told, who aren't blind to such obvious plans. People who I taught myself." She grinned. "Hanso, your parents are the most resourceful people I know."

My jaw dropped. "Wait. My mom and dad stole the necklace for you? So that's what they were doing in Christmas…"

"Though I must admit, they were more reluctant than they would've been ten years ago. Because if one of them got captured-"

"It'd affect me. That's also why they didn't tell me?"

"Actually, I didn't give them the mission until they actually here. I had already taken care of the spell that alerted the Guild of they entered the Assassin's lair: for a few hours, it wouldn't affect them."

"And they agreed, huh?" I smiled sadly.

Marie probably sensed something was wrong, because she said, "What's up, Hanso? And don't lie. Other than it's hopeless lying, I've gotten a lot of practice with Sam about reading faces."

"It's just…there are a lot of rumors I've been hearing about my parents. Something they did that was bad—especially my mom, for some reason. About…about nearly killing and sending this person to Darigan Citadel."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Is that all they've been talking about?"

"No," I admitted. "When they say they did something really bad, it kind of seems like they're talking about something else, and it's emphasizing it on my mom. Something that might even be worse. Do you know what it is?"

She smiled. "Yes, Hanso, I do; but I can't tell you. Your parents will tell when they're ready—though in my opinion, and a lot of others too, what your mom did was a very good thing."

"Good thing?" I said, confused. "But-"

"Why do you want answers so badly?" Marie asked suspiciously.

I shrugged. "I'm just sick of not knowing anymore. I mean, there's this big fiasco about a sort-of friend that I thought was the spy but wasn't, and another thing about two rich kids help out getting bullied, and of course the Masila thing-"

"Slow down, kid," Marie said. "Looks like you have a lot on your plate." I nodded. "And I think I know what's the problem; and your answer would be to make a resolution."

"A resolution about what?" I asked.

"In many ways, Hanso, you're like Masila and Kanrik," she said. "They both have the same fatal flaw. Masila was defeated because she didn't trust Kanrik enough, in the end. Now Kanrik's Guild is in the brink of collapsing, and he won't even look at the person who could help him the most." She smiled at me.

"Wait…you believe that I did something to help?"

"Well, I assume you did something productive in those two months. And I think I can guess what. Anyway, you wouldn't keep a secret for a reason. But I have a feeling that perhaps you might have ask a certain friend of his for help. And that she agreed—though for some reason, she's very, very late. Am I right?"

"Yeah," I said, gaping at her.

"Don't worry about that. I'm sure you wouldn't leave without being absolutely sure that the friend would truly help—you just need trust. Because it seems that that's what you currently lack right now. Your parents are keeping the info for your safety; I assure you, Hanso, one day you'll find out that not knowing will help you. Your friend was hurt you didn't trust her, and as for the rich kids, you might find them more capable than you think. For Masila…well, the only advice in that is to trust your friends, too. This is truly no time for doubting you allies. You have to stand together to face your enemies."

I nodded, realizing what she said makes sense. "Okay. This year, that's my resolution. And as for my hope…I hope this year will be better than the last."

She laughed as she opened the door for me. "That's what you signed up for as a thief, kid. If everything was normal, what fun would that be?"

That's one way of looking at it.

Now, some of you guys are probably wondering what's up with my username change. Ya see, my cousin and I have this bet going on that she won't be able to find my stories. Since just about no one in my family has been able to discover it, I was pretty confident, so I gave her too many clues. Then I remembered she actually knew how to use Google. *face-palms* Anyway, my old penname was something I used all the time. I figured that it'd lessen my chances of getting found (or at least her realizing that I was found) by changing the name. The first thing that popped into my head was 'Iamhiding,' which is, I know, COMPLETELY unoriginal. The new one was Whateva's suggestion. Thanks!

The necklace was Amethyst's (awesome) idea. :D

Now, on a weirder side-note…I was robbed! Seriously! A bunch of thieves took a sack of vegetables from the kitchen while one distracted my mom. She (my mom, I mean) thought I was crazy when I was like, "Oh my God! I should interview them!" :)