Hi! Sorry, I've had some trouble writing and editing this finale. We're not out of the woods yet, but I want you all to know I'm still here and will do my best to post semi-regularly!

A very special thanks to my reviewers! I know I've been bad about replying but I want you to know that you're appreciated. I would have given up posting what I write a long time ago if not for you.

For Akins

"You fascinate me, Lord Kaytake."

Kai stared into the fire and did not reply. His right wrist was still tied to the bedpost. Elder Javan had freed his left so that he could eat, but his bread and stew lay untouched on the table beside him. The Priest assumed that, with his injuries, Kai would be unable to free himself and leave the room without being spotted. He was probably right.

But at this point, really, the rope's only purpose was to remind Kai that despite this private and luxurious room, he was a prisoner.

"I can't put my finger on it, but something about you seems...different. You're not what I expected of the returning hero of the West."

"Not the mighty Red Knight that you all wanted," Kai said. "Just an ordinary man."

"Maybe so. But that's not what I meant."

"How about you stop beating around the bush, Javan."

"If you're ready and willing to stop bush-beating yourself, that would be nice. Now that you've had something to eat, may I ask my questions?" Without waiting for Kai's answer, Javan took out his little notebook and pencil. "I'm going to ask you these questions with the assumption that you're not lying about the Overlord's death."

"Fine."

"What was life like on the island while the Overlord was alive?"

"A living hell."

"In what way?"

Kai paused. He found it difficult to wrap his head around the concept that people in the East knew next to nothing about their sister island. They knew that Overlord had attacked the Western colony and killed most, if not all, of the people living there. They knew that any of the King's ships that attempted to sail West never returned. They knew that, only just recently, Overlord began to send his Dark Knight to pillage and kidnap Eastern citizens who rarely, if ever, returned. But beyond that? What did Overlord do with the men and women his Dark Knight kidnapped? Was anyone from the original Western Colony still alive?

When would Overlord come to take over the East, too?

"You're all so oblivious," Kai said. "And so was I. We didn't know anything. We didn't realize what Overlord was doing. We didn't know how lucky we were, being free on this side of the ocean while a whole other world was being oppressed over there."

"So people live there," Javan said. "But we already knew that from your speech in the plaza. Overlord was their King?"

"Overlord was their tyrant. He went as far as to mark the people with tattoos and brands, treating them like animals in his wicked breeding program."

"Breeding?" Javan frowned. "For what reason?"

"To build an army. The boys are branded and Transformed at twelve winters-"

"Transformed?"

"Into stone. They are trained for combat after that. The Transformation hurts their still-developing minds, though; the boys we helped turn back aren't entirely…there." Kai gave a humorless laugh. "But, then, everybody leaves that island a little touched in the head, whether or not they were Transformed."

"I see." Javan wore a dark expression as he took notes. "And what about the women?"

"They are marked at fourteen."

"Mena keep and preserve us. All the women are marked that young?"

"To the best of my knowledge. Though, I don't know what age the boys need to be before they're allowed into the brothel. Perhaps it's one of the rewards they get when they graduate from Overlord's training program? I count myself fortunate to have not been there long enough to learn the ins and outs of their society."

"And what about the woman you came home with about a month ago?"

"What about her?"

"Pardon me, Kaytake, but it isn't hard to guess. She is one of the marked?"

"Yes."

"And unless she's ten winters younger than you, or is infertile…"

"Yes, she had four children before I met her."

"Some would say this is a disgraceful affair."

"Which is why my father disowned me. Now, she's…she's expecting again." Kai faltered. "The first child she's borne of her own free will, and now…"

There was pity in Javan's eyes. "I feel like we deviated. Aside from the method of application, do the male and female marks look the same?"

"Yes."

"And…what shape do they take?" He glanced at Kai's bandages. He'd seen the tattoo, of course.

"I don't see how that's relevant."

"It might be. The shape of the mark can be very telling. Does it contain, say, numbers or letters?"

"It's one universal mark," Kai said. "I don't think Overlord cared enough to give each slave their own number. Women died each day of abuse at his hand, or from stone warriors, or from illnesses, or exhaustion… It would be too much work to keep track of them all."

"And the gender roles are very strict," Javan guessed. "If you're male, you're a stone warrior. If you're female, you're a…a sex slave. There is no blurring of the lines?"

Kai frowned. He had never seen a female stone warrior, nor had he seen- apart from himself- any male sex slaves, either. Was it arrogant to assume he was the only deviation?

"Not usually," Kai said at last. "No."

"Not usually? So it does happen."

"I have seen it a time or two in peculiar circumstances."

Javan set his pencil in the book's spine. "A spy behind enemy lines can tell where the pitfall is by observing where the enemy soldiers deviate from the path," he said. "Why did Overlord give you the tattoo instead of the brand?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Kai snapped, anger rising in him.

"I'm just hoping I'm wrong."

"You're wrong about a great number of things." Kai pulled on the rope binding his right hand. "He did this to me, too. Restrained me on his bed. But he also muzzled me, and blindfolded me with a soft silk scarf. So I guess you're not quite as cruel."

The color drained from Javan's face. He left the room quickly, without another word, without looking back to meet Kai's challenging eyes.

As the door clicked shut, Kai slumped into the pillows. His anger receded as quickly as it had come. He flexed his cold, clammy, trembling right hand and took a deep breath to calm his palpitating heart.

I can't do this, he prayed, and squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for the wave of terror to pass. Oh, God…I can't do this much longer.

To reduce their risk of being spotted, Peran and Akins left their horses about a mile from the King's Keep and walked the remaining distance up the forested mountain on foot.

"So…it's a secret entrance," Akins said.

"Yes."

"A secret entrance with a clearly marked path."

"Yes." Peran replied curtly, but the same concern ran through his own mind. "It was built for the Blesseds as a means of escape in case of an emergency. Last I knew, only they and a select number of Priests and Guards were aware of it."

"Well, that clearly changed," Akins said. And he was right: the clearly-beaten path in the snow was wide enough for two men to walk side by side. Who was using it?

"Stay sharp," Peran ordered.

"Yessir."

The path ended before a heavy wooden trap door set in the frozen dirt. Frowning, Peran bent low, ear pressed to the wood.

"Anything?" Akins asked after a long minute.

"No." Peran lifted his sword partway from its sheath to make sure it would come free quickly if necessary, then slid it back into place and held up a hand for silence as he lifted the door by its large, rusting iron handle. Despite its decrepit appearance, it opened soundlessly, and Peran peered into the hole. A stone staircase led into darkness.

"That's it?" Akins breathed. "No lock? We've got ourselves unguarded, easy access to arguably the most important building in the country."

"Light," Peran said. A moment later Akins set a lantern in his waiting hand, glowing warm and bright behind the glass. Peran stepped into the hole. He did not need to tell Akins to follow him.

Peran had to crouch a bit so his head wouldn't brush the dirt ceiling as he descended. Holding the lantern high, he examined the floor and walls as he passed. There was as much evidence of people traveling down here as there was aboveground: fresh dirt scraped from the walls. Loose chunks of ice and gravel on the stone steps.

Akins closed the trap door above them, shutting out all natural light. Peran breathed slowly, trying to step lightly in his heavy boots. They had seen nobody thus far, but he knew their luck couldn't hold forever: they had to remain silent if they wanted any chance of passing through here unnoticed.

"Stop!" Akins exclaimed suddenly, and grabbed Peran by the shoulder. The High General froze, searching for any sign of trouble. Seeing nothing, he turned to Akins, prepared to scold him for potentially alerting an enemy to their presence.

Akins let Peran go and pointed down.

Peran followed his finger, eyes narrowed. A near-invisible thread, thin as spider silk, was strung across the step below him.

"Tripwire, sir," Akins said. He motioned to a crack in the wall a few feet up from the wire. "It probably sets off a mechanism that shoots darts or arrows."

"How did you see it?"

"I uh…noticed that stair was less muddy. Figured there had to be a reason why people weren't stepping there."

Peran nodded his thanks and stepped over the stair, keeping a careful eye on the path in front of him. How odd: he didn't remember any traps the last time he'd been down here.

Well, now they knew why the "secret" entrance was unguarded. He only hoped that, if there were more traps hidden below them, they were nonlethal.

They reached the bottom at about the fiftieth step. The lantern provided dim illumination to less than a dozen paces ahead of them, and they walked slowly, carefully, in the narrow passage. Watching, listening for voices, or for any sound that would indicate that they'd set off a trap.

Peran knew the passage couldn't go on for longer than a half mile before it reached the prison beneath the King's Keep, but it seemed to go on for an eternity before the heavy stone door was in sight.

Akins pointed a second time; another tripwire snaked across the path, inches from the rough-hewn floor. Peran moved to step over it, but Akins made a sound in his throat, gesturing up to another wire just beyond it, roughly four feet from the ground.

How does he see the wires in this terrible light? Peran was impressed. He gestured for Akins to go first, and handed him the lantern.

Akins took the light in a steady hand and crept over, then under, the wires. He spun in a slow circle, searching for more traps, then gestured for Peran to come through. Peran did, and then pressed his ear to the door. Still no sign of anyone being down here with them. He took the lantern back.

"I'll bet this is the passage Garmadon uses to sneak the Way-believers into this prison for execution," Akins said. That same vicious, bitter look from earlier in the morning darkened his face.

"You lost someone," Peran realized. "You're one of Borg's men, so if you're not a Way-follower, then you at least had friends that were. Garmadon took them?"

"Not friends," Akins said. "My father."

Peran nodded. "So, that's why you're here," he said. "Revenge."

"No," Akins said. "The Way very strictly prohibits vengeance. I'm only here to make sure that no one else has to lose their lives to that murderer."

"It still looks like revenge to me, son. Which I don't disapprove of; that's why I'm here, too."

Akins glared at the High General, but the angry fire was already beginning to weaken in him. "You lost someone to Garmadon?"

"My son," Peran said softly. "Makeri."

"He was a Way-believer?"

"No. He had the plague."

"Mmm." Akins nodded. "You couldn't bring him to the North?"

Peran shook his head. He turned his face away, surprised by the strong feelings this short exchange was dredging up. He'd done so well in these past few weeks, even at the Ven'tur house. But now, on the secret doorstep of the King's Keep as he prepared to execute his plan for revenge, he suddenly found himself so full of emotion that he could hardly speak for fear of his voice betraying him.

Makeri, his dear son, with his mother's smile and soft hazel eyes…

It was funny how, though Makeri was far too young when his mother died to remember anything about her, he still laughed just like her.

"I was a nurse until Borg sent me to the South," Akins said. "I know it can happen so fast to males… He had, what, three days?"

"Two," Peran said. "But he could have hid the symptoms for longer than that. If he had only come to me first, instead of turning himself in for quarantine, I could have gotten help…"

"The King's pride kept him from allowing Borg's people to heal the Middle," Akins said. "They have the medicine now, thanks to Regent Santi, but I'm sorry his help didn't come to your son in time."

Peran sighed. "Me too."

"Killing Garmadon now won't bring your son back," Akins said.

"This isn't just about Makeri. It's about Vara and her mother. It's about the entire country finally being freed from his tyranny. It's about having the freedom to get medicine for sick people, or-"

"Or being able to worship the true God, and not the First King," Akins interjected, looking upward. His gaze lingered there, and he frowned.

Peran paused. He had no desire to hurt the kid's feelings, but neither did he care to be proselytized. "If that is what you choose to do with your freedom," he said. Deciding the conversation had reached a good stopping point, he briefly examined the door for wires. Finding none, he lifted the latch.

Akins' eyes widened, and he looked back to Peran. "Wait-"

There was a sharp snap above them as Akins shoved Peran firmly through the door.

The High General caught his balance and turned just in time to see Akins fall on the threshold with several arrows protruding from his back.

"Akins!" A second volley shot through the door where Akins had stood just seconds before, and Peran leaped to the side; they whizzed past him. Peran found a number of angled dark slits in the ceiling of the secret passage and watched them for a few heartbeats. That must be what had captured Akins' attention right before Peran opened the door. Stupid!

When the hidden mechanisms did not shoot again, he dragged Akins through the door and to the side, keeping his head low in case of a delayed third volley.

After glancing around briefly to make sure they were still alone, Peran knelt with his back to the wall and turned Akins' head to the side. Blood on his lips. Rapid pulse. Peran turned his feverish attention to the wounds, using his knife to tear into Akins' thick winter clothing.

Three arrows in a line across his back: the one on his left side had lodged in a rib. That was shallow; probably not life-threatening. Peran's gloves became quickly saturated with blood as he tried to determine the severity of the other two. The second was deep in the shoulder- also not immediately life-threatening. But if the third arrow, lodged deep between his ribs, had hit a lung, as the blood on his lips seemed to suggest… Peran looked again to Akins' face. The blood had stopped dripping from his mouth.

Akins wasn't breathing.

No, no, no! These wounds were dangerous, but they shouldn't be killing him this fast! Peran should have had time to save him! Unless…

Peran scrambled on all fours to one of the arrows which had missed its target. Its metal tip was small, but wicked nonetheless, with many jagged barbs along both edges. It was meant to do as much damage coming out of its victim as it did going in.

The entire blade was coated with dark poison.

This made sense, of course: if one wanted to protect a secret entrance from intruders, it wasn't enough to merely shoot them. A fast-acting poison would prevent the victim from making too much noise once they were wounded. Depending on the poison used, one arrow might give a man enough time to cry out before he hit the ground. But with three…

Peran snarled with rage, throwing the arrow far from him.

There had to be something that could save him! Peran turned back to the boy and checked his wounds, grabbed his wrist, feeling for a pulse. Nothing.

"No!" Peran let go of Akins' arm, despairing when it fell limp on the stone floor. He pressed his thumb to the hollow of Akins' neck, searching desperately for any sign of a heartbeat. Anything to indicate that there was some hope. That Akins wasn't dead- that he hadn't just given his life to shield Peran from the trap which he'd blindly triggered…

Mena-cursed fool! Peran doubled over Akins' body, his breathing sharp and shaky. You're a fool, Peran! If you'd had any sense, you'd have known the door would be rigged! Even Akins knew! That's why he… Peran trembled.

This morning, Peran had woken up knowing that, even if he accomplished what he came here to do, he might not survive until moonrise. He would be stopped, cut down by a Guard, or, if he was particularly unfortunate, executed in the Square.

He had been resigned to the fate which he had appointed for himself, but never did he wish for Akins' fate to become entwined with his.

I was ready to die for this cause, Peran thought. But how could he throw his life away now, knowing that this young soldier had sacrificed himself to save it?

Damn it. He gritted his teeth, firm against a salvo of sorrow which cut him far deeper than arrows ever could. He stood, regarding Akins' body through misty eyes.

I don't have time. But even as he told himself this, he knew he had to make time. The Keep's Guards had not responded to the noise yet, which meant that they were likely alone down here. They might continue to be for some time.

Kneeling again, Peran took his knife and removed the barbed arrows, exercising extreme caution so he would not pull up bits of flesh with the arrow tips or cut himself on their poisoned edge. Once all three were removed, he set the arrows aside and turned Akins over. He thought about hiding the body in an empty cell until he could return and take it away, but decided there was no point: with the trap obviously triggered, and the blood smeared across the floor, there was no way he could hide the evidence of their intrusion in the time he had. Better to finish this task as quickly as possible, before he- or Akins- were discovered.

There was no proper way to arrange a body, except for the fetal position in which they were laid when their tree was planted over them. But Peran could not do that- not yet, at any rate- so he did the best be could, laying Akins in a way that at least looked dignified, legs straight before him, arms resting at his sides.

Peran smoothed Akins' wavy hair back from his face. From the front, he nearly looked to be asleep, except for the blood on his mouth.

Peran again took up Akins' pale hand in both of his own, and lifted it to his forehead. The cold stone of the dungeon had already sapped the heat from his body: his fingers were icy cold against Peran's skin. His chest tightened.

Did you know the trap would kill you? Peran wondered. Did you intend to get us both out of the way before it hit, or did you know from the start that you would be my shield?

Whatever the case, Akins' split-second act of bravery had plunged Peran in a debt he could never hope to repay.

Be at peace with your god, Peran prayed and, with a shaky breath, gently laid the boy's hand back on the floor. This silent thanks seemed grossly inadequate, but he wasn't sure what else he could do, except promise to come back for his body after completing their mission.

Deciding he'd lingered too long here- but also not long enough- Peran stood, offering Akins a heartfelt salute, one hand on his breast, the other on his sword.

Finally, he removed his bloodied gloves, took up the lantern, and turned his attention to the long, dark corridor of the prison beneath the King's Keep.

I will save Kaeli's daughter, he promised himself. And I will kill the King. For her. For Makeri.

For Akins.

Oh- Ope, okay, so I guess I accidentally got Kai pissed enough to talk about that. Honestly didn't ever think it'd come up, but life is full of unpleasant surprises. I'm sorry, Kai.

:(

Thank you all for sticking around, and for your reviews! I'll see you in two weeks, provided I can muster up the confidence and energy to shoot a few rounds of pent-up frustrated and enraged energy at that upcoming chapter that's been giving me pain for longer than I care to mention.