A/N: Thank you pallysd'Artagnan and SnidgetHex for reviewing!

Chapter 4

Athos made his way down to the dungeons beneath the monastery. Aside from the pair of red guards at the top of the stairs, the lower level was mostly empty—save for its lone prisoner locked in one of the cells. Athos drew to a stop in front of it, the light from the ensconced torches casting his shadow sharply into the small chamber. Ninon was pacing but stopped at his arrival.

"Athos," she breathed, rushing to the bars. She looked as though she might reach out for comfort, but he didn't move from his position.

"I need you to tell me the truth," he said seriously. "You are not the witch who exploded the windows or the candles. But you know who is, and you're protecting them."

Ninon recoiled a step, then drew herself up. "I cannot recant my statement. The Cardinal will never pardon it."

"But you are not the witch," Athos insisted in a low tone. "Fleur Baudin is."

Ninon blanched and she surged forward to grip the bars of her cell. "Has the Cardinal accused her? What has she done?"

"Aside from the display during your trial? Nothing."

She frowned. "How did you…?"

"I did not take you for a fool to use magic twice in front of the Red Guard. I do, however, believe you desire to protect these girls."

Ninon dropped her head with a sigh. "She can't control it, especially when her emotions are running high."

"Then she shouldn't have started dabbling in witchcraft," Athos rejoined. "She should be the one on trial here."

Ninon's eyes flashed with fury. "Fleur doesn't dabble in witchcraft. She was born with these gifts. They terrify her as much as they do you or I. Her family feared her as well, which is why she fled from them. I tried to help her, but I know nothing of magic. All I could do was give her a safe place to live and acceptance." Ninon drew her shoulders back. "And I can do this. I will not let her be murdered for something she never asked for. Please, Athos, do not turn her in. She is a child and this is not her fault."

Athos faltered, uncertain what to do next. He'd come down here with the intention of confronting Ninon and getting her to turn in the real witch. But to hear the girl was innocent, that she had no control over these…abilities…it went against everything Athos knew of witchcraft.

But then, this wouldn't be the first time his preconceptions about magic had been proven wrong.

"You are truly willing to die for her?" he pressed.

Her expression pinched with pain and regret. "We will all be judged. I will face mine knowing I am not responsible for innocent blood." She swallowed hard. "This is what you wanted, is it not? For me to take responsibility for my charges?"

Athos's jaw tightened. "This is not what I meant," he hissed, stepping up to the bars.

Ninon's eyes wavered with sadness. "I worry what will become of Fleur now. If she is sent back to her family, they will either turn her in eventually or kill her themselves."

Athos exhaled tensely. There were two lives at stake here. And he was reminded of the last time a witch had been unjustly sentenced to burn and his role in circumventing it, despite the law.

"The Cardinal has ordered the pyre to be ready tomorrow morning," he said. "That doesn't leave us much time."

Ninon quirked a confused brow. "Time for what?"

Athos glanced down the dungeon corridor. "Be ready tonight. I'll return for you once we've secured an exit strategy."

Ninon stuck her arm through the bars and grasped at his sleeve. "Athos…"

He folded his hand over hers and gave it a brief squeeze. "Tonight," he repeated, then pulled away and turned to leave the dungeon. Part of him couldn't believe he was doing this, and yet another part of him could not stand to do nothing. The Cardinal would never let Ninon go, not even if Fleur was outed as the real witch; he wanted the Comtesse's wealth too badly. No, if Fleur was discovered, Richelieu would burn them both at the stake together as an example against witchcraft and outspoken women. The thought sickened Athos.

The only thing was, was he prepared to join them if he was caught helping them escape?

His brothers were waiting in the adjoining hall next to the staircase, loitering about as though bored so as not to draw attention. Athos walked past them and they wordlessly fell into step, none of them saying a word until they were back in the privacy of their guest chambers.

"So?" Porthos asked quietly.

"We were right," Athos replied.

"So what do we do?" d'Artagnan asked. "Arrest Fleur?"

Athos took a breath to steel himself. "No. We help her and Ninon escape."

Three sets of eyebrows shot upward in disbelief.

"Beg yer pardon?" Porthos uttered.

"The Cardinal will never spare Ninon, even if the truth comes out," Athos explained. "She is too much of a thorn in his side."

"It'd amount to treason if we're caught," Aramis pointed out carefully.

"That never stopped you before," Athos rejoined.

"No, usually you're the one trying to talk me out of suicidal missions." Aramis crossed his arms. "Ninon must be really special to you."

Athos narrowed his eyes. "That is not it at all. But she is innocent, and Fleur has done nothing to deserve being burned at the stake either."

"Fleur isn't like Agnes," Porthos put in. "She's not out there usin' her magic to help people. She's blowin' stuff up."

"Ninon says she was born with her powers and can't control them yet. If it wasn't for the red guards and the Cardinal threatening her, she likely wouldn't have done those things."

"How are we supposed to rescue Ninon?" d'Artagnan spoke up. "This isn't like Agnes in the village where we just had to fool a handful of superstitious simpletons. We're practically in a fortress here with red guards everywhere and the Cardinal."

"There are tunnels," Athos replied. "We only need access to a map of the monastery."

Porthos snorted. "An' how are you gonna get yer hands on that? Askin' for a peek would give us away once she's disappeared."

"So we don't ask," Aramis said simply. "Documents like that would likely be kept in the abbot's office. We just need to make sure he's not around when we go for a look."

"I still say this is too risky," Porthos said. "Tryin' to sneak them out right under the Cardinal's nose? He's not an idiot."

Aramis's mouth curved upward. "That just makes the challenge all the more fulfilling."

"Yer lettin' your feelings get in the way," Porthos argued, shooting both Athos and Aramis pointed glares.

"You don't have to be party to this," Athos said and meant it. He would not ask any of them to put themselves at risk. Though, it would certainly increase their chances of success if they were all on board.

Porthos sighed. "Like I'd let you get yourselves killed."

"Even if we get Ninon out through the tunnels," d'Artagnan interjected, "if she's discovered missing and we're nowhere to be found, the Cardinal is going to suspect us."

"We'll have to stay here, make sure we're seen helping with the search," Athos said. "Savron can take them."

"Where will they even go?" Aramis asked. "Ninon will be a fugitive."

"I have an idea on that," Athos replied and glanced at the slant of afternoon daylight through the window. "Come on. We need to see those maps."

.o.0.o.

It was easy enough for Aramis to pull the head monk aside in the corridor and distract him with a theological discussion while d'Artagnan stood watch at the corner between them and the Brother's office. Aramis kept the man engaged with questions and ramblings until d'Artagnan finally gave a nod that Athos and Porthos were done. Then Aramis smiled and thanked the flustered monk for his time before heading back to the musketeers' guest chambers.

He met d'Artagnan outside the door; Athos and Porthos were already inside laying out cutlery in a crude proximation of the monastery's structure.

"Porthos and I will take Ninon out through this tunnel here," Athos said, tracing the route on the table. "There's another one under the kitchens you two should be able to get Fleur Baudin through. We'll meet on the south side of the monastery." He turned to Porthos. "You're sure you can pick the lock of Ninon's cell?"

Porthos snorted. "'Course."

"What about the red guards?" d'Artagnan asked.

"You and Aramis will have to distract them while Porthos and I slip past," Athos said matter-of-factly.

Aramis sighed. "I doubt theological debates will work on them."

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Athos paused to throw him a dry look. "Just don't get yourself detained."

Aramis flashed him a daring grin at the challenge.

Athos rolled his eyes and went back to the table, going over the plan again and again until they could all more or less picture the routes without a proper map in front of them. Precision would be key to them all getting away with this.

Eventually it was time and the four of them exchanged silent nods of solidarity, then headed out. This late at night, most of the monastery's inhabitants had retired to their chambers or the chapel for contemplation, leaving the halls clear for the musketeers to slip quietly through. When they came to the doors that led down to the dungeons, Aramis separated from the others and strode nonchalantly toward the two red guards on duty.

He slowed as he approached them, pretending to cast a furtive glance at the stairwell over their shoulders. Then he leaned in and lowered his voice.

"The monks are certain this is a safe enough distance from the…?" He trailed off with a meaningful glance at the door behind them.

The red guards snorted and exchanged a snigger.

"You frightened, musketeer?"

Aramis raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "You're not? Did you not see the witch's display of power during the trial? It was rather unnerving." He made a show of crossing himself for good measure. "But standing guard up here is probably safe."

Now the guards glanced at each other warily.

"We're not that close," one of them argued.

"You're closer than the rest of us here," Aramis countered. "The first line of defense should the witch try to exact vengeance on us before she's burned." He hesitated and took a careful step backward. "Who knows how far her magic can reach."

The guards shared a nervous look, then edged away from the door, just enough for Athos and Porthos to quietly slip through behind them unnoticed.

Aramis straightened as though he'd just remembered something. "Well, I will leave you brave men to your duty."

He pivoted and strode away, grinning madly. D'Artagnan was waiting for him around the corner, the boy's lips also quirking. But there was no time for amusement as they quickly made their way toward the guest room the girls were being housed in for the duration of the trial. They crept toward the door and knocked softly lest they draw the attention of a nun.

After several long moments and repeated rapping, the door finally cracked open and one of the girls peered out fearfully.

"Forgive the intrusion, mademoiselle," Aramis said. "We would like to speak with Fleur Baudin."

The girl threw a frightened glance over her shoulder, hugging the door edge. "She- she's not here."

Aramis and d'Artagnan exchanged an alarmed look. So much for their plan.

"Where is she?"

The girl bit her bottom lip. "She…she was so upset about Ninon and the Cardinal. We tried to calm her down, but…she left."

"She left?" d'Artagnan repeated dubiously.

"Where did she go?" Aramis pressed.

The girl shook her head. "I don't know, I swear."

Aramis nodded and let her close the door. He turned away and ran a hand through his hair. "Ninon won't leave without the girl," he guessed.

"She couldn't have left the monastery," d'Artagnan replied. "We just have to find her."

"Before she loses her temper and her magic explodes in front of another dozen witnesses."

D'Artagnan hesitated. "You don't think she'd…"

"What?"

D'Artagnan lowered his voice to a whisper. "You heard her at the trial, the way she raged at the Cardinal. He's going to murder the one person who ever showed her kindness and acceptance."

Aramis's eyes widened. Cursing under his breath, he and d'Artagnan turned and sprinted down the hall and up toward the Cardinal's chambers. The door was open a crack and they burst inside, only to pull up short in shock at the scene.

Richelieu was on the floor, gasping and choking, one hand clutching his throat and the other stretched out toward a goblet of spilled wine that darkened the ornate rug like blood. Fleur stood a few feet away, arms tucked up against her chest, a small empty vial in her hands. Her eyes were round as she watched, frozen.

Aramis finally moved, surging forward and dropping down next to the Cardinal to roll him onto his back. "What did you give him?" he demanded.

Fleur blinked, coming out of her stupor. "I- I had to stop him. He's the evil one."

"What did you give him?" Aramis repeated sharply as Richelieu's eyes bulged out from his head.

D'Artagnan approached Fleur cautiously but then snatched the vial from her hands. "It's not labeled."

"It's mine," she said. "I've carried it with me since I was thirteen. I don't want to burn."

Aramis and d'Artagnan shared a look at that. "Get her out of here," Aramis said.

D'Artagnan threw him a harried glance but nevertheless took Fleur by the arm and started tugging her urgently toward the door. Aramis got up and followed, waiting for them to disappear down the hall before he would call for help.

But once they were safely gone, he hesitated. After everything the Cardinal had done—after murdering Adele—Aramis should just let him die. The bastard would finally get justice for his many crimes. Framing Athos for murder to discredit the Musketeers. Savoy.

Aramis shot a hand out to brace himself against the doorjamb, the sounds of Richelieu's ragged, gargling gasps sounding behind him. All he had to do was leave, go back to the plan of getting Ninon and Fleur safely out of the monastery.

"Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord."

Aramis clenched his fists and slammed one against the wall in frustration. "Guards!" he bellowed and turned to rush back inside. He knelt beside the Cardinal and began loosening his robes in an effort to ease his strained breathing.

Pounding footsteps arrived, followed by gasps and exclamations.

"I need castor oil and mustard now!" Aramis ordered.

"What happened?" one of the monks demanded as they crowded around.

"He's been poisoned," Aramis answered. "He needs an emetic, now!"

Richelieu choked and convulsed beneath him but Aramis found no pleasure in his suffering. Mostly he hated himself for trying to save this wretched man's life.

But damn it, it was the right thing to do.