"Let me see that," Bran said, reaching for it.
Catherine stuck it behind her back. "Say please."
"Please," Bran said coldly.
Catherine handed it to him. "I'd have thought the Prince," she'd clasped her hands together and held them to her heart, making her voice dreamy, and then made her tone flat, "would have more manners than that."
"You have no right to speak of manners," Bran said offhandedly. "Least not till you get some."
Catherine glared at him.
Bran ran his fingers over the strings and then plucked strands randomly. After a few seconds, he started playing a tune. A stone fell, and he stopped.
"That was your fault," Catherine said, eyeing the stone.
Bran ran his fingers over the strings and started playing again. The walls of the maze began falling. Catherine was tempted to cover her ears with her hands, but the sound of the harp was above all of the loud crashes, and she couldn't stand to block it out.
After a few moments, they stood facing each other in the hollow mountain.
"The fall wasn't as much as I'd thought," Bran said at last.
"Yeah," Catherine agreed as she picked up her sack. She'd tossed it off before she'd gone swimming. "Let's go," she said. "I'm getting cold."
There were five entrances to choose from. Bran walked around the pond to the one on the other side. Catherine hurried to follow.
They were in woods. "How did these get here?" Catherine asked. "I mean, there were those woods we saw before, but they were nothing like these. These- these- they-"
Bran nodded. "Don't end."
Catherine indicated the harp with a wave of her hand. "Did that bring us here?"
"No. Something else did. Or someone."
He drew Eirias and shoved the harp into Catherine's arms. She held it uncertainly. "Hold that," Bran said, looking around.
"What do you think I'm trying to do?" she demanded.
Bran went forward a few steps. Catherine shoved the harp in her sack. It stuck out a bit, but as long as she was careful... She found a large fallen branch that would serve well enough to bludgeon someone if they were attacked and followed closely.
Bran stopped suddenly as they heard a loud wail. Catherine jumped a bit. They listened, trying to find where it came from.
"It's a baby," Catherine whispered, and with that she started running in the direction it came from.
Bran grabbed her arm. "It may be a trap," he reminded her.
She nodded slightly and followed as he went silently through the woods, following the sound. Within seconds she was glaring at him and waving him onward. He ignored her and looked around. Twice, she tried to rush past him. Both times, he held her back and reminded her. The second time, he threatened to tie her to a tree. After that, she went with him obediently and made no move to run to the sound.
Bran looked at the blade of Eirias when they were close to the sound. It showed no signs of the Dark. He stepped back and nodded to Catherine, who grinned and ran past.
She stuck her arms under a bush and pulled out the squirming baby. She reached back in and pulled out a blanket. "Look at it, Bran," she said. "Isn't it adorable?"
"Don't get too attached," Bran advised. "How do you think it got here? Something called us here, and it was evidently for that."
"It's a him," Catherine corrected. "And even if it is a trap, I'm not going to let anything happen to him. Am I?" she asked the baby. She wrapped it in the blanket and cradled it in her arms. "Isn't it sweet?" she asked once he had stopped crying. The baby moved its arms a bit, yawned, and fell asleep.
Bran shook his head. "Yes, he is," he said. He frowned. She was already too attached. "Come on. Let's go back. We'll find another way out of the mountain and camp there."
"Why can't we camp here?" she asked, looking at the baby's face.
"Because this place isn't real," Bran said softly. "Come on."
This time she didn't protest. She followed obediently, and for the rest of the night while they set up camp at one of the other four exits did everything he asked. When she was done, she put the baby in her lap and stroked its hair out of its face while she read the papers in the sack. Bran took the harp out of the sack and played it a bit, thinking. He supposed it would be the best for all concerned if he took the child away now and gave it to someone to foster. Surely, Daniel had gotten it from somewhere. He wondered if Catherine loved the child so much so quickly of her own will. But the fact was fact. After his mother had been taken away from him and knowing now how much she had loved him, he couldn't do that to someone else.
"Did it work?" the man said.
Daniel hung his cloak on the peg and turned to face his client. He had just come to see whether the child was still there or not. "Yes. I told you it would."
"Good. I am willing to pay a large amount for her. She will be a valuable asset to me, but not if she is not broken."
"I know, Dmitri, I know. She's attached to the child. I saw to that."
"Why?"
"Because I see to everything, that's why."
"No. Why is she so attached to a child she has just seen?"
"Because she had a child before. Long before. When we were still together," Daniel said slowly.
"Ah," Dmitri said with a smile. "So you were her teacher in more things than just one."
"You might say that," Daniel admitted. Even if he was a client, that didn't mean Dmitri was entitled to the entire truth. "I already know what she'll name him, too."
"What?"
"Michael. After the Archangel."
"So she's very involved in religion?"
"Something like that." Daniel would never tell this person why she had named the first child Michael.
The next morning, Arthur was one of the first ones up, and it was obvious that he hadn't slept. Merriman gave him a pat on the shoulder and tried to tell him to get some rest after breakfast, but Arthur waved all his comments away. "It isn't a good day, is it?" he asked the three children left. Barney, Simon, and Clara shook their heads.
"I dreamt last night that Daniel got Cat," Clara admitted quietly.
"Won't happen," Barney said firmly.
"It is possible," Isabella said. She looked at Arthur. "We must hurry to reach the top of the mountain, sir."
"Yes, so we do," Arthur said. "Let's go." And with that, he got up, less than half his breakfast eaten. Barney, Simon, and Clara sighed and gave the large remnants of theirs to Merriman, who took some and passed the rest down.
They were a grim, silent group as they walked up the mountain. It wasn't until lunch that things started to look up. While they were once again picking at a small lunch, they heard a cheery, "Hullo!"
Looking up the mountain path, they saw Jane and Will coming down, grinning and holding hands.
Holding hands?
Simon looked twice just to make sure he'd seen right. Barney hid a grin behind a hand and finally had to dive behind Merriman to keep from being seen trying not to laugh.
"Hello!" Merriman said cheerfully, smiling. "How are you two doing?"
"Wonderfully well since we found everyone in the nick of time to intrude in a meal," Will said as he got closer. "What is it?" he asked. "It smells delicious."
Jane saw Simon staring at their held hands and quickly let go of Will's hand. He grinned at her. Jane grinned shyly back, aware that her entire face was red. "Gumerry," she said, "Will had a fall, I'm afraid. Could you see to his head, please? He hit it very hard."
"Is that why the bandage is there?" Merriman asked. They both nodded, and Merriman said, "Well, I'm not a doctor, I'm afraid. McIntire, could you see what you can do?"
A man with dark brown hair nodded and stood. Will walked steadily to him and sat down as McIntire instructed. McIntire cautiously took off the bandage, "Not a bad job of that," he said to no one in particular, and tossed it on the ground. "Useless now. That's a lot of blood you spilled, young one."
"Trust me," Will said, grinning, "it's better than it looks."
"So it is," McIntire agreed. "It's already mostly healed. I'm going to put a clean bandage on it just the same. You can take it off tomorrow. By then it should be healed." The doctor then did as he said and handed Will a large plate of gruel.
Will made a face. "I suppose this is what makes soldiers so brave," he said as he valiantly stuck some in his mouth.
Arthur laughed. "Did you see Bran?" he asked.
Will shook his head. "Should we have?" he asked.
Arthur shrugged. "He went after you, searching for you."
"He'll be back soon, then," Will said as he took another bite. "This is incredibly good gruel. My compliments to the chef."
"I think I'll take some too, please," Jane said hastily. Simon was still staring at her in shock. She hadn't seen Barney's entire face yet, but since what she could see was bright red, she could tell he was trying not to laugh.
Well, what's wrong with it? she thought as she sat down. And then she had an alarming thought: What's wrong with what?
Sorry it took so long, guys. I had this major project due for music appreciation. I've been DIRS-fic-writing deprived for the past week, at least. Geez, I can't wait to get back to this! I might even post the next part tonight. Here's the date, as is, for reference- TIME ME! May 24, 2001.
