I apologize for the delay! I was GOING to post this last weekend, but then I realized that this chapter was a bit of a kingpin and chose to hold it back until I was absolutely certain of what I was doing...

I'm still not absolutely certain, but I'm certain enough! XD So let the games commence.

Special thanks to my friends Kira Vulpes, EMB, and StoneByrd for their help and support as I plod toward the finish line of this project! I couldn't have done it without you guys.

Progress

Lanterns were few and far between in the dungeon, casting more shadows than they dispelled. As Deniel walked between his two Guard escorts he peered into dark cells and was surprised to find that while none of them held prisoners, very few of them were actually empty.

"What's inside these cells?" he asked. "Crates? Those weren't there the last time I came down here."

"Auxiliary supplies for the army, I think," a tall, sturdy blond Guard said.

"That's a lot of extra food," Deniel remarked, skeptical.

"Maybe so." The Guards stopped him before an interrogation cell- the same one Zakari Tui had been in until just a few hours ago, Deniel noted with some measure of wry amusement- and steered him inside.

"Your weapons," said the second Guard.

Reluctantly, Deniel undid his belt, relinquishing his sword and knife to the Guards.

"Anything else?"

"No." It was the truth, and he was grateful that the Guards took him at his word, foregoing an invasive search.

The Guards left, locking the door behind them. Deniel fished his starter from his pocket and lit a lantern on the wall, better illuminating his cell.

Aside from a pair of wooden chairs, the room was barren. As Deniel lowered himself into one chair he caught his hand instinctively going to his side to adjust his sword so he wouldn't sit on it. How odd. He'd never really noticed the weapon before, but now that it was gone he felt naked. He'd dedicated years of his life to training with the weapon. Would he ever get it back? The thought that he might lose it forever made him sick with anxiety.

Relax, he told himself, leaning back in the hard seat with a deep breath, trying to quell the nausea and calm his heart, which pounded almost to the point of discomfort in his chest. High General only wants to ask some questions. Once he realized that Deniel didn't know much- and that he had an alibi at the time of Zakari Tui's murder- the High General would let him go, and he'd be able to continue his search for the real killer.

Deniel groaned with frustration. They didn't have time for this! The person- or people- who wanted the Princess dead could already be planning their next move. Time was in short supply.

He just hoped that, in the meantime, Borg's spy could make good progress.

Kyle was searching for more clues when the summons from the High General came. A few minutes later, he tentatively entered the second-floor conference room and was surprised to find not only the High General, but many Guards standing at parade rest in orderly lines. He quickly counted them up: two groups of eight, and one group of seven.

What is this? Kyle kept his face straight as he shut the door and came to the center of the room.

"High General." Kyle saluted, bringing his right hand to his left shoulder, his other hand on the pommel of his sword.

"Kyle Maikal?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're a reserve from the North, correct?"

Reserve? Kyle had never heard the term used for Guards before. Was he missing something important? He glanced briefly to the side, examining the other Guards. Clean, orderly, quiet. Nothing outwardly wrong with them. But Kyle couldn't shake a feeling in his gut…

Kyle decided to play along.

"Yes, sir," he said.

"Hmm." The High General scanned a sheet in his hand, and for a brief moment Kyle panicked. If anyone discovered his true identity now, it would be over. Vara's life could very well depend on whether or not he was able to keep his cover.

"A member of this squad took ill this morning," the High General said. "You'll be taking his place for this assignment."

Kyle gave a silent prayer of thanks. "Yes, sir."

The High General appraised him with a sharp eye. "You understand your orders?"

Kyle hesitated. "Not as well as I'd like." He suspected that, being a "reserve," this would be a safe answer. He was correct.

"You're in Squad Two," the High General explained, nodding to the group of seven men. "Your job is to keep watch outside the Princess' room. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Kyle kept his face stoic, but inside he was buzzing with excitement. The Princess! This is perfect. I'll be able to keep an eye on her!

The High General checked his pocket watch. "Get in line. The King will be here any minute." He turned to the rest of the Guards. "A good first impression is of the utmost importance; the King is paranoid after the recent attempt on her life."

A chorus of quiet but sharp "Yes, sir"s followed the High General's words.

Kyle joined the group of seven, nodding briefly to the man beside him before falling into parade rest.

A good first impression? Kyle pondered the phrase. A strong, instinctive sense of danger buzzed in his brain as he made eye contact with one of the Guards, and he couldn't help but feel that he'd just stumbled into something very important.

Were these squads, perhaps, working for the people that wanted Vara dead?

If so, did that mean that High General Derek was one of them? Could he even be the one responsible for Tui's escape and subsequent murder?

Of course! It made sense: the High General had keys to every cell. He could have released Tui, then placed the blame on any of his underlings.

Kyle didn't have any proof to back this theory, but he'd learned long ago that it was best to trust his instincts: these Guards were dangerous.

Where did the Lord Rector and his hidden, bloodied uniform fit into the picture?

Kyle held back a smile.

This was progress.

Stern-faced and straight-backed, High General Derek entered Deniel's cell about an hour after his incarceration. Deniel stood, right hand on his breast, the other at his side. The salute felt wrong without his sword under his hand.

"At ease," the High General said, and shut the door. "I have a lot to do today, so if you please..." He sat, and gestured to the chair Deniel has just vacated.

Deniel obeyed. "Sir, if I may, this is not standard protocol... Why am I here?"

"I'll be asking the questions, Waren." His tone was brusque.

Not good. Deniel had a strong feeling that he was under scrutiny for far more than telling the King one small lie. He did his very best to keep his nervousness hidden. "Yes, sir."

The High General pulled a notebook from an inner pocket of his uniform and leafed through the pages, pencil weaved idly between three fingers. The silence was deafening; Deniel discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on his sleeves.

Finally, the High General began.

"Tell me what happened this morning with the Princess," he said.

Deniel took a deep breath. He was prepared for this question. "I was on duty by the garden doors, and I saw the Princess outside. When I realized she was without escort, I rushed to get her back into the Keep."

"Was she trying to escape again?" the High General asked, writing in his book.

"No, sir. She went to the Prince's tree."

"That tree is not visible from the garden doors."

Deniel hesitated. He wasn't going to be able to slide any details past this man. Perhaps, at this point, it would be best to just tell the whole truth.

"Well, yes. Sir, I didn't want to say, because it's the truth's a little bit…"

Derek paused his writing and looked at Deniel, eyes cold as ice. "So is this finally going to be the truth?"

I was a good Guard! Deniel lamented. I never had so much as an absence to blotch my record, and now this? How extraordinary it was to realize that years of dedication and hard work could be ruined so quickly by a single mistake.

But maybe, if he cooperated now, he could begin to rectify it. Deniel offered a brief prayer to the First King. Feeling a bit better afterward, he took a deep breath. I'm sorry, Vara. I need to tell him.

"Yes, sir," he said. "This will sound strange, but I swear to you that it's the truth. I saw a red light through the trees."

The High General's pencil stilled again. "A red light?"

"Yes, sir. It was very bright. I didn't see any other Guards around, so I went to investigate myself."

"You realize that it could have been a diversion," the High General snapped. "Your carelessness might have allowed an intruder to enter the Keep."

"Yes, sir, I am aware," Deniel said calmly. "But with all due respect, what else was I supposed to do? The number of Guards in the keep have been halved. And there was no one on patrol on the garden grounds because the storm had only just ended. If I didn't investigate, who would?"

"The Lord Rector's suggestion to halve the keep's Guards for the sake of the war was...ill-founded," the High General admitted. "In light of the latest attempt on the Princess' life, I plan to change that immediately. Regardless, you could have called for reinforcements before charging out there like a fool by yourself."

Deniel's face grew hot; he prayed that his embarrassment wasn't visible in the low light of the single lantern. "I understand, sir."

The High General grunted, though Deniel could only speculate what that meant. "Continue, Waren. What was the red light?"

"It went out very quickly, sir. I can't say for certain what it was, but the Princess- who was standing at the Prince's tree- told me that it came from..." He paused. Could he trust the High General with this information? He didn't really have a choice, at this point. "She said it came from her necklace."

The High General's expression was unreadable.

"I know it sounds crazy, sir," Deniel said. "But I'm not lying."

"The locket?" the High General asked. "The one that belonged to her mother?"

So, the High General was already aware of the locket. Did he already know about its…odd properties, too? "Yes, sir."

"Hm." The High General continued writing his notes. "And the Princess asked you not to tell anyone about it?"

"Not specifically, sir. But I guessed that that's what she wanted. You know how shy she is..."

"And you also jumped to the conclusion that she would want you to lie about her being alone in the garden." It was a statement, not a question. Deniel barely suppressed a grimace.

"Yes, sir."

"How did the Princess get into the garden in the first place?"

"There's a secret ladder under her windowsill. I believe Prince Lloyd built it there. It rolled itself up once she was on the ground, so she couldn't climb back up that way."

The High General didn't even seem surprised by this answer. That just showed how infamous the Prince's mischief was.

"So, you got back to her room without seeing anyone?"

"No, sir. We saw the King and Lord Rector in the upper west hall. But they didn't see us."

"You hid from them?"

"…Yes, sir."

"I see. And you noticed nothing suspicious?"

"No, sir. Not until we reached her room and I realized her Guard had been drugged."

"How long was she outside before you found her?"

"I don't know."

The High General flipped to a new page in his notebook. Deniel wished he knew what he was writing. "You mentioned during your arrest that you believe the Princess is still in danger. May I ask what brought you to this conclusion?"

Deniel considered carefully. There was no way he could mention Kyle's theory about the Lord Rector- not without undeniable proof, at any rate. So what could he say?

"Well, sir, it's like you said during Tui's trial. This was probably an inside job: someone had to free Tui from the cell before he could attack the Princess, and with security as tight as it is right now, only those on the King's staff are allowed in and out of the gates. I'd say that narrows down our suspect list significantly."

"Hmm." The High General regarded Deniel with hard, narrowed eyes. "Do you have any suspects?"

"Nothing conclusive, sir. I'd only just begun my search when you…called me in for questioning." He used the phrase ironically, knowing full well that he'd been arrested like a common criminal. But maybe that's what I am, now. "I do have one theory, though, sir."

"Yes?"

"The horse Tui stole had a stab wound in its leg. The horse may have been crippled during a chase."

"That's hardly surprising."

"Yes, but how many people do you know that are skilled enough to throw a knife into a galloping horse's leg, while on horseback himself?"

The High General's expression seemed to concede a fair point. "Have you been conducting this investigation by yourself?"

Deniel was well aware of his still-sweaty palms as he lied. "Yes, sir."

"You came up with that theory all on your own?"

"Yes, sir."

"I see. Do you have anything else to declare, Waren?"

"No, sir."

"Very well." The High General snapped his book shut and stood.

"High General, if I may…"

"What is it, Waren?"

"When will I be released?"

A spark of amusement lit the High General's eyes. "Released?"

The anxious feeling which had resided in Deniel's stomach throughout the interrogation sank deeper into his bowels.

"I don't think you'll be released, Waren. Not alive, at any rate."

Deniel stood sharply. "Sir, I don't understand-"

"Your story is full of holes." The High General loomed over him, and Deniel inadvertently stepped backwards. "You have lied continuously to me, and to the King." He scowled. "The Princess was quite distraught this morning."

"Well, of course she was distraught! Someone just tried to kill her-!"

"And she refuses to speak to anyone about what happened while you were alone in the garden with her."

Deniel's mouth snapped shut. He raised a hand in vague gesture, as though it would would communicate where words failed. "You can't honestly think that I would-" Even the idea was incomprehensible. "Sir!"

"Right now, I assume nothing," the High General said coolly. "Perhaps you assaulted the Princess. Perhaps you're one of the assassins sent to kill her. Or perhaps your worst crime is merely a chronic inability to tell the truth, even when you have nothing worth hiding."

"If I were the assassin, why would I run to report that her Guard had been drugged before finishing the job?"

"Because she wasn't meant to be killed tonight," the High General said.

That doesn't make any sense! Deniel wanted to exclaim, but paused.

Should Vara die, Deniel would automatically be the heir to the throne. It would only make sense for the High General to suspect him when the Princess' life was threatened. That was why the King had been so upset when Deniel was put in the Princess' rotation. Because who in their right mind would give him access to the one person who stood in his way of becoming King?

"Very clever move," the High General said, and stuffed his notebook decisively into his pocket. "Stage an assassination attempt, make yourself the hero to allay suspicion. Now, when you do murder her, who in their right mind would suspect you?"

"You're the one who put me in the Princess' rotation," Deniel said.

"A mistake I would not have made, had I remembered your heritage. I think we're done here, Waren. Good day."

"Sir!" Deniel struggled to find something else to say, something that could vindicate him. He came up empty.

But Vara was in danger! Was there nothing he could do?

"The Lord Rector!" Deniel blurted.

High General Derek paused, turning back to Deniel. "What?"

Deniel breathed deeply. There was nothing he could do to make his situation any worse. He might as well give the High General this one final clue. "The Lord Rector has a lot of skill with knives, so he might have been the one to cut down Tui's horse. And also!" he spoke hastily, before the High General could interrupt him or walk away. "In his wardrobe, there's a bloody uniform."

"You searched the Lord Rector's room without a warrant?"

"Yes, sir. I know it's wrong, but you understand, there was no way I could attain a warrant for the Lord Rector. So…I just went for it. I understand if you don't believe me, but I wanted you to know. I think the evidence deserves consideration."

The High General seemed genuinely perplexed by this. He nodded slowly, and withdrew his book to make another note.

"Thank you, Waren," he said, and left. The door closed firmly, echoing through the stone halls. His footsteps receded, and, when all Deniel could hear was his own thick breathing, he sank into his chair on shaky legs.

There was nothing to do now but wait.

Progress...?

An all-OC chapter. Sorry, all. We'll get some Kai next week.

I'm probably going to post on the weekends from now on, just so you all know when to find me.

Reviews are syrup on my pancakes. Thanks, all, for reading! I'll see you this weekend.