Author's Note:

Hi all! So here's a quicker update than usual. Hopefully people will like it :)

Thanks to the following people for their lovely reviews: sailormajinmoon, MountainLord-92, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Imorgen, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, gallifrey calls now, EmmaMarie, silentnight, MayFairy, SawManiac211, Lost Moon, TheWickedHeart, Beautifulspace (x 2), Geraldine and EDZEL2.

To silentnight: Thanks for the review - yes, the Doctor may have made the mistake of underestimating the Chaos-Master just a bit...

To Lost Moon: Very glad you think the Pandorica stuff is working out OK. Thanks so much for the feedback!

To Geraldine: Yeah, Tejana doesn't know which way to turn at the moment. very glad you are enjoying it ;)

To Beautifulspace: Thanks so much for both your reviews. Bit of a longer chapter this time, so hopefully you will like. In answer to your question, my favourite Doctor is (and always will be) Ten, closely followed by Five.

Gorgeous summer weather starting to happen here, so if my updating slows down, you will all know why :P

Here it is...

- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN -

"There are no safe choices. Only other choices."

- Libba Bray, A Great And Terrible Beauty

Theta Sigma hadn't bothered to go down to dinner. After seeing the chicken blown to pieces, he had lost his appetite. He knew it was only a chicken, but still, he felt very guilty over what had happened to the poor thing, even if it hadn't been exactly his fault.

Besides, it had seemed like a good idea to stay out of sight for a while, at least until Gomer discovered what had happened to his experiment and the inevitable hullabaloo erupted. It would be useless trying to explain that it was an accident, so there was no point making the effort. With their track record for practical jokes, no-one would ever believe them. And neither Theta nor Drax could afford any more black marks against their names at the moment. They had both already been in far too many scrapes recently. Not to mention the fact that Theta didn't want anyone looking too closely at the device they had been building – it would lead to far too many questions he didn't want to answer.

So they had furtively gone their separate ways, each intent on laying low until the hue and cry died down. Drax had headed for the comfort of the Deca common room, while Theta had wandered out into the Academy grounds, hoping to find some solitude and some time to think in the small contemplative garden.

The night was as calm and still as always, the air balmy and heavy with the combined scent of various aromatic blossoms. Sitting cross-legged on the big, flat rock at the centre of the patterned sand, he pulled the timey-wimey detector out of his pocket and examined it by the purple moonlight. In the end, Drax had been only too happy to hand it over, no doubt relieved to be rid of any incriminating evidence. Theta's fingers hovered over the dial, uncertain whether he should turn it on or not. But then, telling himself that there were unlikely to be any chickens anywhere around here, he took a deep breath and activated the device. He was immediately rewarded with another faint ding.

Studying the read-out, a thrill that was half excitement and half dread ran along his spine. There was no doubt about it. Somewhere nearby, there was a slow but steady build-up of rhondium particles. Another crack was coming, a big one. And this time, with a bit of work using the timey-wimey detector, he would be able to pinpoint exactly where it was going to happen.

He knew he should probably go to Lord Borusa with what he had discovered, but the honest truth was that he didn't want to. His curiosity was much too strongly aroused. Once the older Time Lords found out about the cracks, they would take over the investigation and Theta would be shut out in the cold, sent back to the classroom like a child. The Time Lords were extremely adept at covering things up. If he handed over the information now, it would disappear into a metaphorical black hole and he would never find out what it had all been about. No, he reflected, it would be better for everyone if he saw this new crack for himself. Then he could decide whether it was worth bothering Borusa.

Before he could dwell any further on the problem, he heard the sound of small running feet coming closer and closer along the path on the other side of the garden wall. To his surprise, he saw Kat burst wildly through the gate and throw herself face down on to the ornamental raked river of sand. Her glorious mane of copper hair was hanging loose and tangled down her back and her shoulders were shaking with terrible, choking sobs.

Theta hesitated for a few moments, aware he needed to do something, but not exactly sure what. He wasn't accustomed to dealing with crying women. Up until now, it wasn't something he'd been called upon to do very often. There were only two female members of the Deca, neither of whom required any sort of emotional support from him. Rallon always comforted Millennia when she was in tears. And as for Ushas, no-one in their right mind would go anywhere near her when she was upset, not unless they wanted to walk funny for at least a week afterwards.

He cleared his throat. Saying something to her would at least be a start. "Kat? Kat, are you all right? What on Gallifrey's the matter with you?"

She didn't answer. If anything, her sobbing intensified; her small, delicate fingers curling frantically into the sand, as if she was seeking something solid to hang on to. She was so distraught, she didn't even seem to know he was there.

He hopped off his rock and moved closer, kneeling down in the sand beside her, wondering what could possibly have upset her this much. He had only known her for a short time, but she had never struck him as someone who cried easily. She was much too proud and defiant for that. The quality of her tears was almost desperate, as if they were being ripped from somewhere deep inside. Whatever was going on with her, it was much more serious than just a reprimand from a superior staff member or a tiff with one of the other maids. It seemed to him more like the broken reaction of someone who had been teetering on some sort of edge for far too long and had finally snapped under the strain.

The intensity of her grief tore at his hearts. In the end, he stopped trying to over-think it and just reached out to her and gathered her close, as if she was a child.

"Ssssshhhhhh," he soothed, rocking her back and forth in his arms. "Hush now, I've got you. Whatever it is, we'll sort it out. It's going to be all right now."

She didn't pull away. Instead, she curled herself into him, her face buried in his chest, and wept as if both her hearts would break. There was nothing he could do, except to awkwardly stroke her hair and to murmur soft, incoherent words of comfort. The strange thing was, despite feeling a bit useless and out of his depth, he wasn't at all self-conscious about holding her so closely, not the way he would have expected. It felt right, as if it was something he was supposed to be doing, as if she was his responsibility, although he couldn't have said why. It was all another part of Kat's mystery.

After a little while, the wracking sobs slowed and she gradually quietened. For a few, short moments, she remained slumped lifelessly in his arms. Then she took a deep, shuddering breath and he could almost feel her drawing herself in, picking up the pieces and putting them back together, one by one. Sure enough, before long, she disentangled herself from him and sat up, her face intentionally curtained by the fall of her hair, so that he couldn't read her expression.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," she said in a low voice. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I didn't know you were here."

"I'm not embarrassed," he answered, with perfect truth. "What was that all about? Are you all right?"

She shrugged, her slender body as tense as a wire. Whereas before she had welcomed his comfort, now every part of her closing him out. Even though he couldn't see her face, it was clear she was deeply ashamed of her uncharacteristic vulnerability. "It's nothing. Just...some bad news...from home."

"From Low Town? What sort of bad news?"

Her hand twitched in a dismissive gesture. "I don't want to talk about it."

Theta studied her keenly. For the first time since she had arrived so tumultuously in the garden, he noticed her dishevelled appearance. The top of her dress was gaping nearly wide open. Courteously, he averted his eyes, a faint flush colouring his cheeks.

"Um..." he began. "You might want to...you know...tidy up a bit."

He gestured vaguely towards her chest, while still endeavouring to look anywhere else at the same time. He heard her give a quick, sharp gasp of distress and then she was fumbling with the buttons, snapping them closed. If Anzor hadn't been incapacitated in the Infirmary, Theta would have wondered if he had been up to his old tricks again, especially after his threats the day before.

"Kat, if someone's hurt you..."

"No!" she cut in. "It's nothing like that."

As he looked at her, his gaze was drawn down to her flat belly, a curious intuition stirring inside him, some sort of deep-seated instinct, shivering over his skin. He knew that, in theory, it was none of his business, but somehow he still felt compelled to ask, "This bad news...it's not...I mean, you're not...?" His hand settled meaningfully on his own stomach, making apparent what he was getting at.

Her eyes swung up to meet his, instant understanding in their clear, green depths. "Pregnant? Is that what you're trying to ask me, Lord Theta? Am I pregnant?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm asking."

He'd obviously touched a nerve, because she glared at him fiercely, almost as if she hated him, fresh tears shimmering angrily in her eyes. "And what would you say if I was?"

The words were flung at him, like a challenge. Faint alarm bells began going off in the back of his head. Her anger was oddly personal, directed specifically at him, as if he was the last person in the world she wanted to tell - as if he had let her down before and now she expected nothing different from him. It was a peculiar sensation, like being in a play where she knew the ending, but he was missing half the script.

"That would depend," he said carefully, feeling his way into the conversation. "Firstly, I'd want to know if you were happy about it or not."

Her soft lips tightened in what could only be described as contempt. "Yes, I'm happy! Happier than I've ever been about anything in my life before. Why should that matter? When has that ever mattered?"

"Of course it matters. It's all that matters. And, in that case, it means I would say...congratulations."

She gave a short, sharp laugh, laced with pain. Hearing her crying had been bad enough, but hearing the absolute bitterness contained in that travesty of a laugh was even worse. "Congratulations? Well, thank you, Theta Sigma. Such a pity my father can't share your enlightened point-of-view."

"He's not pleased?"

"No, I think we can safely say, he's not pleased."

"And the father of the baby?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about him either."

Her tone was flat and absolutely final. Whoever the father of her baby was - wherever he was - she had no intention of discussing him. Theta thought back to their earlier conversation in the passageway where the crack had been – all the questions she had asked him about fatherhood and children; the peculiar intensity of her eyes, as if she had been hungry to hear his answers. Had this been the reason why? Because she had fallen pregnant against her family's wishes? Because her own father had refused to listen? Looking at her flushed, downcast face, he felt a sudden protective tenderness welling inside him. Gently, he took her hand in his.

"I don't know you do things in Low Town, but here in the Citadel, the Time Lords believe that every baby is a precious gift," he told her. "Don't ever let anyone tell you any different, Kat."

"Every baby?" she demanded passionately, her eyes boring into his. "No matter who the father is? Do you truly believe that?"

"Well, I don't exactly know a lot about babies yet, but yeah, I truly believe it."

"Then don't stop believing, Theta," she responded, pulling her hand away. "Please, not ever, no matter old you get, no matter what happens!"

Brushing grains of sand from her skirts, she rose to her feet, her confiding mood suddenly vanishing like mist in the sunlight. Her head was held high, her usual armour of pride once more intact, as impenetrable and resistant as steel. "Thank you once again for your help, my Lord," she said formally, not allowing him an opening for any further questions. "But I have to go now."

With that, she walked back towards the garden gate. Theta watched her go, his brow creased in concentration. She was an anomaly – a puzzle that required solving. As before, nothing in her words or her bearing added up to her alleged position as a Shabogan servant girl. Looking back over this conversation and all the ones they had held previously, he realised that she had never once confirmed that her home was in Low Town. Instead, whenever the subject of her origins was raised, she became evasive or changed the subject.

Who are you really, Kat? he wondered curiously, one hundred percent convinced now that she wasn't what she pretended to be. And where do you come from?

Just before she vanished out the gate, he called to her, "Kat..."

She turned around and looked at him. "Yes?"

"Do you know what YANA means?"

Her gaze sharpened, an almost hungry expression on her face. "YANA? Why do you ask?"

"Because, just after you were here last time, I saw it written in the sand. As if it was some kind of message. I wondered if it was meant for you."

"No, I've never heard of it," she said, and this time he was certain that she was lying. There was something about her eyes, something about her face...she not only understood the mysterious message, but the mere thought of it had eased her unhappiness somehow. "Goodbye, Lord Theta."

With that, she slipped through the gate and was gone, leaving him kneeling alone in the tumbled sand, his head full of unanswered questions. It wasn't until quite some time later that he realised he had forgotten to tell her about the rhondium sensor and the impending crack.

But, by then, it was too late, because he had already made up his mind what he needed to do.

As he too left the garden, up above in the night sky, high above the Dome, the last few, bright stars winked out into oblivion.

Exhausted beyond bearing, Tejana made her way back up to the bedroom she shared with Dyoni. The last few days had been some of the most traumatic she had endured since the end of the Time War, and all she wanted to do was to sleep.

Everything around her was just so surreal, and hard to process, like a constant nightmare. Even the strange connection she had with Theta only served to underline how out of place she was here. He was everything she had ever wanted her father to be, everything she had always longed for, all her life. She would never have been able to let the Doctor comfort her like that – her pride simply wouldn't have allowed it. But with Theta it had seemed so right and so natural. And then, for him to guess about her unborn son...the contrast between his reception of the news and that of his older self could not have been greater.

Every baby is a precious gift...I truly believe it...

Both her hearts clenched in grief and anger as she remembered his simple, honest words.

You believed it back then, Doctor...why couldn't you have believed it about your own grandson?

As for the things the Master had told her back in the ballroom, she couldn't even bear to think about it, couldn't stand the knowledge that the only way they could ever be together now, the only way he could live, was for her to willingly betray every single thing she had had been brought up to hold sacred. Could she really stand back and allow her life-mate to possess another body? Possession was one of the most abhorrent offences a psychic being could commit – even if the body in question belonged to the Master's earlier self and therefore was technically already part of him. And if she accepted that, could she then really condone murder - even if the Master's father was a monster and deserved to die? And if she permitted things to progress that far, was she really willing to change the history, not only of Gallifrey, but the entire Universe?

The Master would argue that, as Time Lords, they had that right. But she knew the Doctor would say that no-one did. The Master would argue that the change would improve history. The Doctor would reply that even the Time Lords weren't gods and nobody could be sure what would happen. The Master would tell her that this was the only way their son could live. The Doctor would say that the life of one could never be worth more than the whole, no matter who that one was.

The arguments and counter-arguments spun back and forth inside her tired brain. She knew she couldn't keep running and hiding from the ugly choice. She thought back to her last conversation with John Hart, aboard the Master's TARDIS.

If the only way to get him back had been to toss me over that cliff inside my jacket, would you really have done it?...Something to think about, isn't it, Princess?

Back then, she had thought the answer to that question didn't matter, that it was utterly irrelevant and able to be ignored. But she had been wrong about that, just as she had been wrong about so many other things lately. Soon, very soon, she was going to have to decide just how far she was prepared to go to protect her relationship with the Master. Soon she was going to have to choose where her loyalty to him began and ended. No more fuzzy edges, no more evasions, but instead, hard, clear-cut, uncrossable lines.

Soon, she thought wearily, but not right now. Right now, all she wanted was a few hours of peace and rest, to regain the strength and determination that seemed to have so woefully deserted her.

But she had no sooner entered the bedroom when Dyoni cannoned through the door behind her. "Kat! There you are! I was worried! At first, when you weren't in the ballroom after dinner, I thought you'd gone for a walk to clear your head. But when you didn't come back, and Fionnula was asking where you were..."

Tejana swore silently. With everything that had happened that evening, she hadn't even given a thought to her duties. Once again, she'd forgotten that she was supposed to be a servant – that this time around, she couldn't wander through the Academy as and when she chose.

"I'm so sorry, Dyoni," she said contritely. "You were right. I didn't feel well, so I went out into the garden for a bit. But I'm still feeling a bit sick, so I thought I'd better lie down. I didn't think to ask permission from Fionnula."

"Oh, it's all right," Dyoni replied. "I sorted it out. I told her you were ill and she didn't mind."

The very idea of the Head Housemaid 'not minding' her staff lying down on the job, especially with Otherstide so near, made Tejana raise her eyebrows sceptically.

In other words, she thought, it's just as I suspected. Fionnula knows exactly what happened with Anzor and, in her own stiff, unbending way, is cutting me a break because of my supposed injuries. Dyoni had been right, the servants really did know at lot more than their Time Lord masters about what went on in the Academy.

"Thank you," she said. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. But...she did say you're down on early breakfast duty, so you'd better get some sleep while you can."

Tejana suppressed a small, tired smile at the other maid's rueful tone. That last bit sounded a lot more like the Fionnula she had become accustomed to – obviously the Head Housemaid didn't want anyone thinking she was getting soft.

"Well," Dyoni continued. "I'll leave you to your rest." She moved towards the door and then stopped and looked back, a rosy blush staining her cheeks. "I...um...I'm not sure how late I'll be."

Tejana sat down on the edge of her bed. "Oh?"

"Yes." Dyoni's eyes held a shy, excited glow. "The thing is, Maerl has asked me to take a walk with him."

"Maerl?"

"Yes, he's one of the cooks. He was sitting opposite you at dinner, on your first night here."

Tejana cast her mind back, trying to remember. Vaguely, she recalled the young, nondescript male servant who had managed to bore everyone stupid for the whole meal with his lengthy discourse on insect biology. "You mean the man who was talking about flutterwings?" she queried dubiously, sure she must be mistaken.

"Yes, that's him," Dyoni breathed rapturously. "He's so clever. I can't believe he's asked me out – I never thought he would look twice at me!"

Tejana smiled weakly, not really sure what to say. Personally, she would rather put a bullet through her head than spend one more minute in Maerl's tedious company. But she supposed it was always possible that he was just the man for Dyoni. "Oh..well...um...that's really nice, Dyoni. I'm really happy for you."

The other girl gave her a sympathetic look, obviously misinterpreting her hesitance as jealousy. "Don't worry, Kat. I'm sure things will work out with your man too, in time."

And for that one, brief moment, Tejana was jealous of Dyoni. Not over her budding relationship with Maerl, but because for the servant girl, things were so simple and straightforward. Her destiny didn't involve any difficult, heart-rending decisions. She and Maerl would probably see each other for a while, get married and have children. And when they were grown, those children would also serve the Time Lords, and their children after them. In fact, if she ever managed to repair her personal timeline, decades in the future, Dyoni's grand-daughters would probably clear the plates away from in front of a young student named Tejanakaturadilena, an arrogant, haughty Time Lady who would never even notice them or think to ask their names or even to thank them.

Looking at the maid-servant's bright, happy face, Tejana felt nothing but shame. This was the truth she hadn't understood back then – the truth that the Master would probably never understand. The Universe was made up of ordinary, good people just like Dyoni, just living their short lives from day to day, without any thought to temporal theory or knowledge of the casual nexus. And these were the people who would be affected, for better or for worse, if she allowed the Master to tamper with the time-lines. The responsibility...the risk...was far too great. How could anyone possibly even want to hold that much power over the lives of billions and billions of people? The Master might think that they didn't matter, but they did...oh, they did!

"Yeah, of course things will work out," she responded dully, wishing with all her hearts it was true. "It'll be just fine." Mustering up a smile, she added, "Anyway, good luck!"

Dyoni gave her an excited little wave and hurried out the door, barely disguising her eagerness to meet up with her new suitor.

"She'll need it," Tejana said aloud. "That Maerl has to be one of the most boring guys I've ever met. And I've met a few!"

If anyone else had been listening in, they would have assumed she had gone mad and was talking to herself, since the room around her appeared to be absolutely empty. But Tejana knew that it wasn't empty at all. Now that she was fully aware what she was looking for, she had sensed the Master as soon as she walked through the door. Dyoni wasn't the only one who had been waiting for her to return to the room. YANA, she told herself, recalling the message Theta had seen written in the sand. You. Are. Not. Alone. For the first time, she wasn't afraid of the invisible presence. Instead, despite her worries over their future, she felt comforted and protected.

"Of course," she continued, addressing the air with a touch of humour. "I don't suppose everyone can be lucky enough to end up with Gallifrey's most infamous son."

Although she still couldn't see or hear anyone else in the room, she could have sworn she sensed a current of amusement swelling around her. The Master had been responsible for many terrible things in his time, but at least no-one had ever accused him of being boring.

Tejana gave a small sigh and began to get ready for bed. It was a bit disturbing getting undressed, knowing someone was watching her, but not being able to see them – even though the 'someone' was the man she loved. Given that she had stripped for him any number of times before, in any number of sensual and erotic ways, getting undressed simply to pull on her nightgown and jump into bed shouldn't have bothered her in the least. Oddly enough, however, it did, her fingers awkward and clumsy as she undid the buttons on her dress. Again, she felt that ghostly ripple of amusement, as if he was enjoying her sudden attack of shyness.

With a flash of her old defiance, she pulled the dress over her head and threw it aside, until she stood proudly naked beside the bed, her copper hair tumbling loosely down her back. Then she reached for the white cotton nightgown which lay neatly folded on the pillow. But before she could grasp it, she found it had been twitched away from her, down to the middle of the mattress. Automatically, she grabbed for it again, only to have it pulled even further away.

"Oh, very funny!" she said sarcastically.

Obviously, the Master was already much stronger than she realised. In his intangible state, to be able to physically interact with his surroundings, even to this small degree, indicated an exceptional control over his morphic field. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. When her life-mate wanted something badly enough, his ruthless determination and willpower were second to none.

Abruptly, she dived on the nightgown again, intent on reaching it first. But he was much too quick for her and it ended up on the floor across the other side of the room. She could almost feel him smirking at her unsuccessful efforts. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn't help laughing. This was a side to the Master she saw all too rarely, enough to treasure it dearly when she did – the playful, teasing, charming side. Those few, all too brief, occasional moments when he forgot his bitterness and rage, and it became about the two of them just being together, instead of about hatred and domination and revenge.

"All right, all right," she smiled. "You win. I get the point. No nightgown."

There was no reply, but the air seemed to shift and coil around her, full of unseen implications, as if he was summoning all his strength, all his formidable concentration. Then she felt two strong arms come around her from behind in an intimate embrace, pulling her close against a hard, lean, masculine body. Instantly, her eyes flew to the reflective surface of the mirror hanging opposite on the wall. Exhilaration flared and raced down her veins as she realised there was still no image showing in the glass except her own. The invisible arms tightened around her, gently rocking her back and forth in the lamplight, soothing her in a lulling, swaying motion. In any other circumstances, the experience would have been extremely eerie. However, knowing how much effort and energy he must be expending to manifest himself to this extent, Tejana merely closed her eyes and gave herself up to the comfort of the intimate movement, her hips swaying in perfect time with his, allowing her head to fall back against the warmth of his chest behind her, just as she had done many, many times before. She felt his invisible lips lightly brush the exposed curve of her neck and she drew her breath in sharply, a sensual shiver tracing up her spine.

His lips moved to her ear, his invisible hands moving over her body in a reassuring caress, travelling slowly down to her stomach, where they paused, cradling the place where their tiny baby nestled. She could feel a soft breath stirring the tendrils of her hair and then a husky voice whispered, "Ana. My beautiful Ana."

"Amin Mekhil..." she responded passionately, wanting nothing more than to hold on to him and never let him go again.

Yet even this little she had of him could not last. Already, his control over his morphic field was weakening and he was becoming less tangible, his arms fading from around her. "No, please don't go yet...stay with me, just for a while!"

But there was nothing either of them could do. He was little more than a ghost. Even his phenomenal will-power could not bridge the gap between non-existence and reality for very long. All too soon, he was gone again. She knew he was probably still there somewhere, watching over her, but she could no longer even sense his presence in the room.

Numbly, she climbed into bed, leaving the nightgown abandoned on the floor, all her laughter extinguished like a candle flame.

Without his plan, this was all she had to look forward to. This was all she and her child would ever know of him, fleeting glimpses, the occasional touch. And that was only if he didn't fade all together, becoming nothing more than a distant memory.

Everything inside her screamed in pain and denial at the thought.

Earlier, she had asked herself how she could possibly betray everything she believed in to save him.

Now she asked herself, how could she not?

Not far away, Theta stood outside a closed door, hesitating for a moment before knocking sharply. There was no reply. Using the psychic link, he ascertained easily enough that the person he was looking for was inside. They were merely staying quiet in the hope he would give up and go away. Ordinarily, he probably would have. But not this time. Instead, he ignored all the dictates of courtesy and opened the door wide, striding into the room beyond without invitation.

Koschei lay on his bed, his hands beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't move as Theta entered, not even bothering to acknowledge his friend's intrusion. Theta stopped short and looked at him closely. Far from being his usual, immaculate self, Koschei looked ill. His hair was carelessly tousled and he had deep, dark circles etched under his navy-blue eyes, as if he hadn't slept for a month.

Concerned, Theta asked, "Kos, are you all right?"

Still Koschei didn't look at him. "I'm fine," he said flatly. "But I'm kind of busy. What do you want, Theta?"

Busy doing WHAT? Theta wanted to ask. As far as he could see, his friend was just lying there doing nothing. But he bit his tongue, knowing better than to antagonise Koschei when he was just about to ask him a favour.

"There's somewhere I want to go. But I can't go by myself. So, I was wondering if you'd come with me."

At least this statement appeared to get Koschei's attention, since he propped himself up on his elbows and focused his gaze intently on Theta's face. "Why do I get the feeling that this little expedition is going to be against the rules?"

Theta took a deep breath. This was going to be the tricky bit. While he didn't mind a bit of mischief-making in the background, Koschei tended to be fairly reluctant to overtly break the Academy rules, in case his overbearing father came to hear of it. Theta couldn't blame him for his hesitance – Lord Oakdown had doled out some extremely harsh punishments in the past, for what were actually quite minor infractions. He hated to think what would happen to Koschei if he was caught doing something really serious. If Theta hadn't had such a strong, gut feeling that the information he was seeking was important, he would never have asked his friend to come with him. They would just have to be extremely careful not to get caught, that was all, he reasoned to himself.

"Because it is against the rules," he replied. "I want to sneak out down to Low Town."

"You want to go to Low Town?" Koschei flopped back on to his pillow with a harsh, grating laugh. "You're kidding me, right?"

Theta blinked, a bit taken aback by his friend's reaction. "No, I'm not kidding. I really want to go."

Koschei's head turned on the pillow, his blue eyes burning with almost feverish demand. "What for?"

"Um, I don't know...curiosity...scientific research...find out how the other half live...that sort of thing," Theta rambled, uncomfortable under the other boy's piercing gaze. He couldn't exactly explain that he needed to find out all he could about the background of a Shabogan maidservant. Koschei would simply say he was mad and refuse to come. What the hell's wrong with him, anyway? Theta wondered irritably. Maybe he really is ill, even if he won't admit it. "The chances of me returning in one piece if I go on my own are next to nil," he continued. "So...will you come with me? I was planning on going as soon as possible, first thing tomorrow morning."

Before entering the room, Theta had rehearsed the conversation in his head, anticipating the need to overcome a whole list of objections and protests before Koschei would agree to accompany him. But to his surprise, his friend merely gave him a hard, mirthless grin, as if he saw some sort of hidden joke in Theta's request that he didn't intend to share.

"Sure, why not?" he replied in a mocking voice, returning his gaze to the ceiling. "Interesting place, Low Town. Who knows what we might find? Should be an absolute blast."

Another Author's Note: If anyone is wondering about the significance of the trip to Low Town, I suggest you re-read Chapter Eleven of "The Master's Rose".