Chapter Two

The Plan

Catherine walked down the hallway, shoving two strands of golden brown hair out of her face. Why did people have to learn Algebra, anyway? Well, Algebra II, but it didn't matter. In the long run it was still pointless. She knelt next to her locker. The only good thing about her locker was that it was on the end, next to a classroom. As long as she didn't hit the locker on top of hers or get trampled by the kids coming out of the classroom, she had nothing to worry about. Especially since the classroom was no empty and the teacher on planning period.

She set her books to the side and worked at her lock. It had broken a few weeks ago, and since it still worked, she hadn't gotten a new one. All she had to do was pick it. Sighing, she stuck a bent-out-of-shape paper clip in the hole at the bottom and closed her eyes so she could feel the minute clicks. On the second click, she opened her eyes as she realized she was moving in time to see the door fly past her.

She landed hard on her back on the floor of the classroom and heard the door close quickly behind her. She hadn't even heard it open. Catherine frowned and was about to reprimand him when a heavy hand covered her mouth, the other hand tightening on her arm. Pain shot through it, from the fingertips to the shoulder blade. The person shoved her head down onto the floor until she felt as if her head were glued there.

She looked at it. If this was one of the sophomores playing a trick on her, they were going to get the surprise of their lives!

Instead, she was the one on the receiving end of the surprise. She hadn't seen him in over a year, and he looked even worse than he had before. He was tall and so stocky that he bordered fat. Apparently, the "fat" was muscle now. His black hair was even sloppier, his green-gray eyes even darker. His sneer more liable to get slapped off as soon as she could get a hand free. Right now, though, she'd fallen on top of them.

"Hello, Cat," Daniel said.

Cat glared at him. She knew better than to try and talk; it would only come out as mumbling and give him an invitation to laugh at her.

"Breathe, Cat." He moved his and so that it covered both her mouth and nose.

It was then that she realized it wasn't only his hand, but also a cloth that was covering her face. A damp cloth.

Eventually she had to breathe. And she couldn't remember anything that happened after that.

* * *

"So a seer told you to bring us here?" Simon asked. They were all gathered in huge library. It had already been explained tat the house was a mix of all times, where only Old Ones and a few other trusted allies could go. Although the place had no electricity, there were hundreds of candles, books, a harp (which Bran was studying), a piano and harpsichord, comfortable seats, a large desk with several rolled-up parchments around it, and the library was just a fraction of the size of every other room in the house.

Merriman nodded. He and Arthur were both standing, though Merriman was leaning against the piano. "We have two seers," he said looking to Clara. Clara pouted and sank farther into her chair.

Barney, who had been admiring the room from the second floor, suddenly jumped up when he saw Clara. "You're the one!" he said. "I'm supposed to teach you!"

"Do you even know how?" Clara said miserably.

"Sure, I do. I've been taking lessons from a bunch of different people. Ask me anything."

"Do you think this Isabella de Francis girl is fake?" Clara asked.

Barney looked at her oddly and cocked his head a bit as if listening to something. His eyes grew clearer at last, and he said, "Yes, I do. They don't seem pleased with her."

"What's wrong with Isabella?" Bran asked, paying full attention to the conversation at last.

Will, the only person besides Jane who had not spoken in the room, caught a glance from Merriman and said, "Clara heard a voice say that Isabella was a liar, had made a deal, and was false."

"Really?" Bran asked. He looked at her speculatively. "A voice?"

Clara nodded, even more miserable.

Barney, coming down the stairs, gave her an sympathetic look and said softly, "There's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Plenty of people hear It."

Clara looked at him, unconvinced.

"Tell me, Clara, what's my dog's name?" Bran asked clearly.

"You don't have one. You never got another dog after Cafall," she answered promptly.

Bran nodded. "Who am I?"

"The Pendragon."

Bran looked at her and finally grinned. "Knew something was wrong," he said, mostly to himself. "So Isabella has made a deal with the Dark, you think?"

Will nodded.

"Then why hasn't Eirias- Ah. She isn't of the Dark officially."

"Yes," his father said. "We are almost positive she is being used as a spy against us."

Bran considered this and finally nodded. "So we'll just turn the tables and use her against them in the same way."

"How so?" Arthur asked, beginning to grin.

"Easy. First, give her misinformation. The second thing will be harder. Get her to trust us enough that she'll confide in us and tell us what the Dark is doing."

"Wouldn't it be just as easy for the Dark to use her for misinformation?" Simon asked.

"Not if they don't know," Bran said.

Everyone thought about his proposition for a while. Arthur finally moved and sat down next to Will. "Any objections?" he asked.

No one said anything. A few shook their heads. Will stared straight in front of him. If Bran got carried away... Will could tell Bran liked her, and he wasn't sure how Bran would act. He stayed silent.

Arthur finally nodded. "Since you are closest to her, Bran, why don't you try to make her trust you?"

Bran nodded. "I will."

"Good," Merriman said. "Now, another thing..."

"Sorry to interrupt, Gumerry," Jane said quickly. "But I have just one question. Who's Isabella?"

Merriman grinned and explained while Will and Arthur filled Simon and Bran in on exactly how the Dark had managed to come back at full power after so long. Barney worked to try to get Clara to admit she could hear the Voice.

They didn't resurface from planning and studying until dinner, when it was decided they would leave in the morning.

* * *

Catherine, for once in her life, was glad she carried around paper clips to pick locks in her pocket. Most of the other girls in the room with her had never seen handcuffs before, and Daniel had probably figured she wouldn't know the first thing about them. Well, that was his bad luck. It took a little doing and a lot of patience, but she'd finally gotten them off. The manacles had been child's play. It was as if the person who had made them didn't know what locks were.

After she was done, she found person by person in the dark with her hands. She worked to set each one loose. She was surprised when some of them actually asked to stay.

"He'll do awful things to us if we try to leave," she whispered.

Catherine whispered back, "Not if you succeed."

"And if not?"

"And if we don't succeed, I'll take the blame."

"That won't stop him."

"It ought to. Because as soon as he messes with me, I'm taking him down."

"What?"

"I'm taking him down," Catherine repeated firmly.

"What does that mean?"

"Beating him to a pulp the size of a robin's egg and then squashing it beneath my feet so all the yoke spills out."

"Oh."

She soon learned that this wasn't the only girl who didn't know what language meant. There were some who spoke an old form of English, some who spoke another language entirely, and some who just stayed where they were, whimpering if they had to make any noise at all.

They've been broken, she realized. He was trying to break them. He's trying to break me. The thought made her angry. When she found the door, she yanked it open. She didn't bother to let the light hurt her eyes. She squinted and saw a guard on either side. They gaped as she stepped out. She kicked one in the stomach and tried to kick the other in the same move. He blocked it with his spear. She grabbed the spear from the other guard and sighed in relief. She was much better at fighting when she only had to kick, but she didn't know how to throw proper punches. She felt much better when she could use her arms' strength without punching.

She called to the others behind to hurry up, but none came. She bit her lip as she wondered why and blocked the guard's staff. The other one was getting up now. She stopped wondering and concentrated solely on fighting.

Twenty minutes later, someone had finally managed to pen her to a wall. She panted, exhausted and a bit relieved that it was finally over. When four more had shown up, she'd begun to doubt her chances. When they'd all attacked at once and blows had gotten through again and again, and then two more had shown up, she'd known she wouldn't make it.

"On the bright side," said one of the guards as he sat down heavily, "she'll fetch a great price once she's broken in."

"What do you mean, a 'great price?'" Catherine snapped. "You mean this is a whorehouse or something?"

A few of the men laughed. "No, girl. People these days want obedient slaves. So Daniel goes around, takes girls such as yourself, and, uh, trains them to be proper slaves."

One of them looked her in the eye, his face inches from hers, and said gruffly, "Welcome to the slave trade."

* * *

"You're kidding," Simon said. "We have to cross over that pass over there?" He pointed into the distance, where the pass between two cliffs was merely a thin line, nearly invisible.

"Don't worry," Will said. "It'll be fun."

"Like those high-action games on TV," Barney added.

Simon frowned. "Only without safety equipment."

"How are we going to get to the pass?" Jane asked. "It belongs to the castle there, doesn't it?"

Bran nodded. "The guys and I will go and ask for passage through."

Simon looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "What about Jane?" he asked.

"To be honest, I'd rather Jane not go."

"Why?" Simon turned to face Bran.

"It's rumored that there's a slave trade going on there. Someone kidnaps young women and sells them to people who are willing to pay the price."

"I don't mind, Simon," Jane said. "I think I'd rather stay here, actually."

Simon nodded and turned back to the castle, studying it.

Clara turned away from it. She didn't like how it looked or how it felt.

"How long before we get there?" Barney asked.

"About an hour," Bran said. "We'll head out again as soon as we get permission."

After a few more minutes of rest, everyone got up again and headed out.

* * *

"Well," Catherine said dryly, "I'm glad you could see me on such short notice."

"If you hadn't tried to break out," Daniel retorted, "I wouldn't have had to have seen you at all."

"I know exactly how you feel," Catherine said. "Except twice that." She was standing in front of Daniel, where he sat in a large hard-looking chair that resembled a throne. A large table was on either side of him, with people sitting behind them scribbling things down. People were lining either side of the hall behind her, and meanwhile, she stood there with her hands tied with twine in front of her. It would take a whole lot more patience to get out of twine.

"Do you?" Daniel said, somewhat amused. "You of course know why you're here."

Catherine nodded. "You aim to break me so I'll be more docile and then you can sell me off to some rich indush." She smiled at the people on the side of the room and frowned at Daniel. No one had to know that she'd made the word up.

Daniel didn't bother asking what it meant; he knew better. "So, you fought with my guards, I see. They aren't pleased with you. You broke someone's nose, and another hasn't woken up yet."

The audience gaped at her.

Catherine shrugged modestly. "I guess I'm just better than they."

"Which is how you're still here," Daniel said with an amused smile. He leaned forward. "Cat, I have to be honest with you. You're one of the most independent people I've ever known. You're smart. You fight well. You're loyal." His voice became harsh. "But I will break you and sell you for all you're worth."

Catherine faced the crowd, her audience. "Who wants to buy me for free?" she asked. She knew what Daniel was up to. He was trying to flatter her and then tell her she was nothing at all. She'd beat him to it.

She was facing the doors when a group of boys and two men came in. One was tall with white hair, another was shorter, but still tall with brown hair that was turning gray. One of the boys seemed to have no color at all, the boy next to him had brown hair, and the two next to them, one taller and one shorter, both had blond hair.

"Who are you?" Daniel demanded.

They introduced themselves. At this point, Catherine wasn't sure if she was hearing right. It seemed that one of them had called himself King Arthur. She turned back to Daniel, who was only half paying attention to her. As the others introduced themselves, though, she realized that no one was paying attention to her at all.

She started creeping away. She made it as far as the line of people before a man looked at the distracting person and shouted something unintelligible. She quickly made a grab for his sword, grabbed it, found it wouldn't come out of its sheath, kicked him, and undid the sheath while he was lying on the ground. In seconds, she was up again, holding the sword in Daniel's direction.

"Get her!" Daniel commanded. "Lock all the doors." He turned to someone at his side and spoke softly, but Catherine was running to Daniel and was close enough to make out what was said. "And destroy the Light."

Then she struck Daniel with the sword as hard as she could. She didn't know how to use a sword properly; she was positive she wasn't doing too well. He parried easily and got up to fight her.

It was then that all hell broke loose.

I hope you like it! I finally gave up writing everything in my notebook since most of it's in my head anyway, and I go a lot faster this way. If you see any typos, please let me know. I'll have the next part up soon, hopefully.

Love ya,
Dleet