A/N: This one mirrors canon a bit closely; I needed some way to get Suzy to the Citadel, so here you go. Also, you'll see me avoid calling the Denizen either Noon or Dusk, due to the book not quite being clear on which it was (the Keeper said "S. Sat.'s Dusk," but later, Suzy calls him her Noon, so go figure).

CHAPTER FIVE- OUR SPIRIT EATER

Suzy screamed.

She had thought that going through the Front Door would be as easy as using any other door; she'd just dive-bomb into it, wings spread out, and find herself conveniently in the Lower House, where the pocket she held could and should become Dame Primus's problem, or, more preferably, an elevator could be hitched to deliver it to Arthur himself. It was a mission of utmost importance, for without its destruction, a cocigrue would forever replace Arthur in his Realm, his world of Earth, and stop him from ever going home.

But now she was stuck in a limbo that was neither the Secondary Realms nor the House, clutching the box with the sorcerous pocket that was the Spirit Eater's lifeblood to her chest. "Oi! Lieutenant Keeper! I'm stuck in your stupid Door!" Suzy shouted.

There was no reply as Suzy fell in the void-like nihilism- if she even was falling. It was hard to know which way was up or down, and very difficult to orient oneself. For all she knew, she was stuck in place, not going anywhere. She flapped her wings, but with no point of reference, she had no idea if her situation had changed or not.

"Hello! Somebody come and get me, please!" she tried again.

"One moment, one moment," came the Lieutenant Keeper's placid voice, though he was nowhere in sight. "There is trouble at the cross-roads."

Suzy snorted, leaned back, crossed her arms and legs, and waited, as if perched on an invisible stool. Her squashed top hat slid over to cover her eyes, so she spared one hand to fix it before returning to her position.

"Someone looks like they're about to throw a temper tantrum," said a voice that was definitely not the Lieutenant Keeper's.

Suzy 'stood,' and turned to face a very tall, very handsome Denizen. He bowed, his top hat miraculously not moving a centimeter at the angle. He had a shock of black hair and sported a pair of wings, which seemed permanent, unlike Suzy's pair. He carried a long, glistening blade that shone in the darkness. He smiled, and both his eyes and tongue flashed a strange obsidian.

"Who're you?" Suzy demanded.

"That would be asking," he said, straightening. "I see you have our Spirit Eater's pocket."

"Your Spirit Eater?" Suzy sniffed, her grip on the pocket tightening as she pulled it closer to her chest.

"Ours," corrected the Denizen. He held out his hand. "Let's not get in our way. Hand it over to me now, and I shall show you the nearest point of egress from the Door."

"So, basically, I give you this, and then you get me out of this abyss of death," Suzy clarified.

"That is what I said, yes."

"FAT CHANCE!" She stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry.

The Denizen sneered. "What a petty defiance. We are stronger than you are. Hand me the pocket, and I shall not be forced to do something… unpleasant."

"As if!" Suzy snorted, but she found that, to her horror, her hand was moving of its own accord. She was slowly holding out the pocket, fingers beginning to uncurl as she extended it towards him, for the taking.

The Denizen smirked and reached out, then drew back his hand with a howl as a hot, blinding light dashed between the two of them. The light shot past for a moment, then turned back and leaped at him, then dimmed as there was a horrific screech of crashing metal.

Suzy realized it was the Lieutenant Keeper, here to save a damsel in distress.

"Kick his bum to the moon, Keeper!" she cried, watching the two exchange blows. After a moment, she tucked the pocket under her hat. There's no safer place, she thought to herself.

The Keeper did not reply, ducking a swipe from the Denizen. He retaliated with a deft kick, and his wings pulled close as he prepared for a dive. Swooping down like a bird of prey, the Keeper extended his wings at the last moment, using the tips to slash and slice at the Denizen's face.

The Denizen shrieked and brought his own wings around to encase his upper torso and head, crossing his sword in front of the Keeper in a defensive maneuver. Then he rotated, clearly using the Door's lack of gravity or dimension to his advantage. From his upside-down position, he snarled and hacked at the Keeper savagely, his sword brightening as it came hurtling at Suzy's rescuer.

The Keeper's wings gave a mighty flap, and he shot safely above the blade, bringing his own sword arcing down in retribution.

The Denizen twisted, but either didn't twist enough or twisted too far, and the weapon bit into his shoulder. The Denizen screeched, a savage sound of pain, as he dislodged it and drew back, hand to his wound. "This does not end," he seethed, retreating towards a window of white that appeared behind him. Suzy tried to peer past the Keeper to see what it was. As she watched, the white shimmered and showed a picture of a study with several umbrella stands, though only one solitary umbrella occupied it. The Denizen snarled once more for good measure, then turned and jumped into it. The window shimmered once more, and suddenly he was next to the stand, scowling and dripping blue onto a carpet that Suzy was certain its owner would not appreciate new stains on. Then the window disappeared, plunging the interior of the Door back into darkness.

The Keeper frowned. "Coward, to retreat for such a minor flesh wound," he spat. "Though I suspect he began to realize that I am wiser than we last met." The Keeper turned and held out his hand. "Well met, Suzy Turquoise-Blue."

The Keeper's long, silver hair was tied back into a messy ponytail, and his sword and waistcoat both had blue blood on it, though whether it was his own or the other Denizen's or someone else's entirely, Suzy did not know. He looked worn and tired, but friendly nonetheless.

"Who was that?" Suzy asked, accepting his hand gratefully.

"Superior Saturday's Dusk. Or perhaps her Noon. I am not certain," he replied. "She switched them, for some reason or other. They probably offended her in some manner. No matter. We are old adversaries, they and I."

"Nice," Suzy said. "Mortal enemies. Um, why?"

"Because their mistress is probably one of the most interfering Denizens in the House, regularly entering the Secondary Realms," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he was neither approving nor condemning their actions. "I, at least, attempt to maintain the Original Law, but her minions are quite slippery."

"Slippery, eh? Probably what her carpet's going to be once he's done dripping blue all over it," Suzy shrugged.

The Keeper smiled. "Perhaps."

"Well, I don't really give a hoot about her carpet. I need to take care of this," Suzy said, tapping her top hat.

"A new hat probably is in order," the Keeper said. "It seems quite worn."

"No, the pocket in my hat!" Suzy exclaimed. "The Spirit Eater's lifeblood!"

"I jest," the Keeper replied. "I thought as much. Now, is there someplace you wish for me to take you?"

"Where does the Front Door open?" Suzy asked. "Other than the Atrium of the Lower House, I mean."

"The Front Door can open in various places in all the demesnes," he replied. "If one knows the spell, one may transform certain doors to, for a time, have the virtue of the Front Door and become it. There are many openings lost, inaccessible, or dangerous, but many I would be pleased to show you."

"Could you take me to the Great Maze?"

"That demesne is about to be cut off. It is nearly overrun by Nithlings, and it may be quarantined to save the rest of the House from impending doom. If that happens, I will not be able to retrieve you, and you shall be stuck. No elevators or other methods of transportation will avail."

"I don't care. That's where Arthur is, and that's where I'm going."

"The point of egress into the Great Maze is in the Star Fort, in the heart of Sir Thursday's Citadel," the Keeper informed her gravely. "It is most certainly a dangerous place to enter the Maze."

"How many times do I have to say I don't care?" Suzy replied.

"Very well." The Keeper waved his hand, and another window of white appeared in front of Suzy. She jumped for it eagerly, but the Keeper grabbed her sleeve. "Not so fast, Miss Turquoise-Blue."

"What now?" she asked grumpily.

"No wings allowed in the Great Maze," he said, pressing his thumb against Suzy's back, right between her shoulder blades. Her wings popped off and shrunk, and the Keeper pocketed them. "It attracts too much lightening, due to the tiles changing."

"But I have to give them back to Old Primey- er, I mean, Dame Primus."

"Farewell," the Keeper said, ignoring her last comment and giving her a little push. Suzy screamed again as she fell into the white, for a second surrounded in pure white instead of the black of the Door but still nowhere tangible.

Then she hit solid ground with a grunt. "Oooph! Couldn'ta made it gentler, could ya?" she grumbled, scrambling to her feet and taking a quick look around. She was on some sort of outer wall, and a lone sentry was walking away from her.

Was. He turned, no doubt wondering about the noise, and pointed his weapon, a pole-ax, straight at Suzy. "Halt! Who goes there?"

"Crap," Suzy mumbled.

"I apologize," Dusk- or was it Noon?- bowed.

Pravuil frowned. "For Milady's carpet or your failure?" he asked.

Saturday's Time looked down, as if just now realizing the mess he had made all over the study. "Both, I suppose. Which would she care more about?"

"The carpet, more likely," Pravuil sniffed.

"Really?"

"NO!"

"Then she rates this Pretender highly on her list of grievances," the Time said.

"Well, so long as the Great Maze falls, I don't think she'll care much about him either way," Pravuil shrugged.

"That was why she ordered so many Nithlings?"

"Naturally," Pravuil replied patronizingly. "The fall of the Great Maze would aide our plans significantly."

"But won't she need the Pretender to continue them?" the Time asked. "Surely, the fall of the other demesnes would be needed as well-"

"Just the first four would do, perhaps," Pravuil answered. "Maybe the Middle would be needed, but we must be careful and make sure he does not reach the Upper House."

"That would be catastrophic," the Time agreed. "But what shall I do now?"

"Prepare for your report," Pravuil advised, "and pray Milady is in a good mood."