The Guardians Become Thorns In My Side

"Hey."

Me and Sam had been walking towards the dining hall when I heard someone call after us. We looked around and saw Jax, who looked like a sleep deprived mess but also looked very determined.

"Jax," I said, "did you sleep at all last night?"

"Not a wink," he said casually. "Anyways, I've got something to tell you both. It doesn't really matter if the traitor knows about Cara."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Last night you said 'it's better if the traitor doesn't know about her' and stuff like that."

"That's because my plan was to find Notch's reincarnation quietly and have her be our secret weapon or something like that," Jax sighed, "but then she blew up Outopia, so Klith probably knows about her already. Looking back on it, it was a dumb plan anyways. He would have figured out eventually when the whiteboard made the announcement."

"Announcement?" Sam echoed.

"Right, you weren't there." Jax looked at Sam. "The whiteboard made a big announcement about how Toni was Herobrine's reincarnation when she first came to Valaither."

"Ah." Sam said. "And you didn't think of that?"

"I'd just found out about Notch's reincarnation, okay?" Jax said. "It was just a random plan I thought of. Not even a real plan, more of an idea."

"So…we have full permission to tell the others?" I asked.

Jax shrugged. "You can if you want, but still don't go…loudly announcing it everywhere."

"Got it. Are you coming to breakfast with us?" Sam asked.

"Nope. I've got stuff to pack, things to research—"

"Jax, you need to eat." I pointed out. "You'll need a lot of energy for the quest—"

"I'll be fine," Jax said dismissively. "The library has a snack bar. You guys can go on ahead."

"I think she meant actual food." Sam said dryly. "Not potato chips and sugar wafers."

Jax shrugged. "The sandwiches they serve there are okay. Go ahead, don't wait for me."

Reluctantly, we left Jax to go to the dining hall.

Talking about Cara reminded me of Herobrine. Hey, Brian. You okay? You haven't been speaking for a while.

Yeah, I'm fine. I've just been writing.

I frowned. Writing?

Yeah, I write in my spare time. Herobrine said casually. It's just a hobby of mine.

What've you been writing about?

Oh, you know. Herobrine sounded weirdly defensive. This and that.

I decided to change the subject. Any advice for, oh, I don't know, the extremely dangerous quest we're going on?

Don't die, I guess.

Thanks. Really helpful. You're the best.

Upon entering the dining hall, we saw everyone in our squad—and Cara, leaning back on her chair.

Sam stopped. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Chill out." Trevor held up his hand like someone placating an angry animal. "She got assigned to Squad 1."

"Yeah, the whiteboard said she had a great soul and everything." Lago said as she studied a cupcake.

"Yeah, well, if only her personality was just as great." Sam grumbled under her breath. "Wait. Cara, why are you wet?"

I did a double take. Sure enough, Cara looked like someone had dumped a bucket of water on her.

Cara forced a grin. "Bandit over there hit me with a water balloon."

"Good man." Sam high fived Bandit as she sat next to Trevor. Cara glowered at Sam.

"You guys know each other already?" Cacao said, looking from Sam to Cara.

"Yeah. They're the ones that brought me here." Cara jerked her head in my and Sam's direction. "And there was some other guy named Jax."

"When did you guys have time to bring her here?" Rook frowned. "I thought you guys went to your rooms after supper."

"No, we left the Aether afterwards," Sam said.

Lago stared at us. "You left…did you leave to find her? Specifically? Why? What's so special about her? I mean, she was sorted into this squad and all, but…"

I took a deep breath. "Listen, you guys. We've got something to tell you, but you can't run around and tell everybody, okay?"

"No promises," Bandit smirked. Rook jabbed him in the side, and he yelped and gave Rook a wounded look as he rubbed his side. "I was just kidding. Of course I won't."

"Wait, Sam, I thought we weren't supposed to tell them?" Trevor whispered, even though Cacao was right next to him.

Sam shrugged. "Jax said it doesn't really matter."

I gestured for everybody to lean in, and they did. I whispered: "Cara's the reincarnation of Notch."

Their reactions were not as subtle as I would have liked. Lago accidentally crushed the cupcake she was holding in shock, Cacao let out a loud gasp, Bandit paled and stared at Cara with a horrified look, and Rook choked on the food she'd been chewing. The only people who weren't as surprised were Y, who merely raised an eyebrow, and Trevor, who'd already known.

Cara smirked so smugly it was almost aggravating. I could tell she'd wanted this kind of a reaction.

Sam dropped the second bombshell on them. "Also, we're probably going on another quest."

"Another one?" Rook gasped.

"ALREADY?" Bandit added.

"Oh, stop it!" I snapped. "Do you guys have any sense of subtlety?"

"Sorry," Rook said. "Just…didn't…expect that."

"She's—she's—her? It's her?" Bandit spluttered.

"Wait, but…" Lago lowered her voice. "When do you guys leave?"

I shrugged. "By the end of today or tomorrow morning."

Everyone made more noises of shock.

Cacao laid back in his seat. "That is nuts."

Bandit shifted uncomfortably as he eyed Cara. When she turned to stare at him, he jumped.

"Well?" Cara said, as if she were expecting something.

"I, uh…" Bandit fidgeted with his blindfold. "Sorry about…hitting you with a water balloon. It was pretty funny, though."

Cara glared at him, and I began to run through solutions for second degree burns in my head when her scowl broke into a smile. "That's okay. After all, what sort of hero would I be if I held grudges over petty things like that?"

Bandit slowly blinked. "Um…thanks?"

I snorted. Sam pretended to vomit, and then put on an innocent expression when Cara glared at her. "What? Your kindness warmed my cold dead heart."

"You shut it."

"But then…why hasn't the whiteboard…you know." Cacao glanced at the whiteboard.

"I'm not sure," I said. "But it took the whiteboard a day to make an announcement for me, didn't it?"

"We're not going to be here in a day," Cara said, and stood. "I'm pretty full, so I'll be taking my leave." She swung her jacket off of her chair and walked away.

I stared after her, and then glanced at Rook, who'd been sitting next to her. "But she didn't even eat that much. Did she?"

Rook frowned. "I don't think she even ate."

I was thinking about this when several men in sky blue uniforms strode into the dining hall. I didn't really care, at least not until Lago asked "What are the Guardians doing here?"

I turned in my seat and stared at them. Sure enough, they were all wearing the same sky blue uniform. The Guardians were basically the police of the Aether, but I'd never seen them enter Valaither once.

"They never come into Valaither," Cacao said, voicing my thoughts. "Why'd they come now?"

"Oh!" Rook gasped. "Maybe they've caught the person behind the withers!"

My heartbeat quickened. Already? Had the traitor really been caught that easily?

"Maybe the traitor won't be as much of a problem as we thought," Sam said as the Guardians made their way towards a table. The dining hall went quiet as they stopped. I tried to see who the Guardians were glaring at, but everybody else had stood up to watch, so I couldn't see over them.

They suddenly grabbed someone out of their seat and shoved them to the ground. I heard a few grunts and the click of handcuffs.

I stood and pushed past the crowd of people, trying to get a look at who they were arresting. Everybody at the table followed after me.

I got to the front and spotted who they were arresting.

Shock numbed my mind. My jaw dropped.

"Owen Roslyn, you are under arrest for attempted murder, illegally summoning dangerous mobs, and destruction of property." One of the Guardians shouted, pulling Owen roughly to his feet.

Everybody murmured, and I heard the squad gasp behind me.

"Owen? The guy you've got the hots for?" Bandit said, stunned. "It's him?"

I was too shocked to even yell at Bandit. No. There was no way. That wasn't possible.

Owen gaped at the guards for a while before pulling himself together. "I've got an alibi," he said. "You can't accuse me for this."

"And we've got solid proof," a Guardian snapped back. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can be used against you."

Owen looked around at the Guardians, who looked dead serious. He laughed weakly. "This…isn't a joke, huh?"

None of the guards responded. Two of them marched up to Owen, grabbed his arms, and began too march him out of the dining hall. He looked around at all of us angrily. "Come on, guys! I'm innocent! It wasn't me, I swear!" His eyes met mine. "Hey, Toni! You believe me, right? Toni?"

Everybody turned to stare at me, but I couldn't do anything more than open and close my mouth uselessly.

The Guardians exited the dining hall, and Owen's shouts were abruptly cut off as one of the Guardians slammed the doors shut.

For the first time in a while, the dining hall was absolutely silent. All eyes were on me.

Sam summed it up perfectly: "What just happened?"

?-?-?

Jax rubbed his forehead. "Wait, wait. Hold on. They…they marched into the dining hall and just…dragged Owen out?"

"No, they took his evil twin." I snapped. "Yes, they dragged out Owen! How many times must I tell you?"

"Huh…" Jax leaned back in his chair. "That's…eh…unfortunate."

"Of course it's unfortunate!" I stood and began pacing around the room. "They arrested an innocent person for something he didn't do!"

Jax and Sam glanced at each other, a gesture that made me stop and glare at them both. "What?"

"Well…I didn't mean unfortunate like that." Jax began cautiously.

"Meaning?" I demanded.

"Meaning…" Jax hesitated. "Maybe Owen…might actually be the cul—"

"No, no, no. Stop right there." I stamped over Jax's words. "It's not Owen. It can't be."

"Toni, I get you like him but—"

"Shut up about that." My face flushed against my will. "I don't. But I just can't believe it's him. Look, if it really was Owen, why'd he come down to us and help us take the withers down? If he really was the traitor, he didn't need to come down there—he could have just left us there to die and no one would have suspected him at all."

I looked between Sam and Jax, who both looked at me with a frustrating amount of pity. I hated how sympathetic they looked, like I'd told them my puppy had just died or something.

"Okay, but would the Guardians really have arrested him with no proof?" Sam put in. "I mean, they probably didn't draw names from a can and pick Owen."

"What if—" I gasped. "What if someone framed him?"

"Now that's just ridiculous." Jax said flatly. "Who would have framed him? Klith? Even if this was Klith's doing, he wouldn't frame Owen, who's basically not related to our quest at all. He'd frame someone like Sam, or maybe even Cara."

"Why not me or you?" I argued.

"You and me were too involved in the quest, nobody would believe it." Jax said.

"And I wasn't involved in the quest?" Sam said, sounding insulted. "Some of us have to make do without superpowers, Jax!"

Jax winced. "Sorry. Poor choice of words. But anyways, the point I'm trying to make is that Klith has no reason to frame Owen."

I growled. The worst part was, neither of them were wrong. Klith probably didn't even know who Owen was, and the fact that he was arrested at all meant that there was at least a small amount of evidence against him.

But still, it was impossible for me to believe. Owen? Really?

Alright, I'll just go and say it—I barely knew the guy. I'm not going to pretend like I do. But still…he seemed like a good person. And he'd saved me when the Withers had attacked.

And then and there I made a decision—if anyone was going to find out if Owen was guilty or not, it would be me.

"I'm going to speak to Owen," I grumbled. "You two stay here."

"Toni, it's the day before our quest." Jax sounded exasperated. "We've got practically no time to prepare as it is, and if you—"

Sam elbowed Jax. "Let her go, man. We've still got a lot of time."

Jax stared at her. "We don't."

"Just do it." Sam sighed and whispered something into Jax's ear. I didn't catch all of it, but I definitely caught the words 'feel bad' and 'peace of mind' in part of it. And I didn't know how to interpret that."

Jax sighed. "Sure. Okay. Go talk to Owen, Toni. But be quick about it."

I stood before he'd even finished his sentence and was already at the door.

"Be quick about it!" Jax yelled again.

"No promises!" I yelled back.

?-?-?

The jail in Valaither was not a cheerful place, which should not have been surprising. It was basically a huge stone brick skyscraper with irons bars instead of windows. I stepped into the building and found myself in a boring grey reception like area. A few people were sitting at chairs in the corner. I turned to the front desk, which was blocked off by a pane of thick looking glass. A bored looking man sat behind the desk.

I tapped on the glass. "Uh…excuse me? Could I…visit Owen Roslyn please?"

The man looked up at me; he looked like he hadn't slept in several days. He looked down at me with a frown. "A kid like you shouldn't be in here. There's some scary people in here."

I felt a spike of annoyance at his patronizing tone. "Yeah, well, this kid has faced a lot more than muggers and burglars."

"I'm sure you have, kid." The man seemed to be trying to not roll his eyes. "Also, you can't just visit someone without notice. You need to put in a request to visit them, and you have to get permission from one of your guardians."

I groaned. I didn't have enough time to submit a request, and there was definitely no way I could get a guardian to grant me permission. "Isn't there any other way?"

"Nope," the man said, and his face disappeared behind his newspaper again. "Now, if that's all…"

I sighed and let my forehead hit the glass. I was seriously beginning to consider just breaking in to see Owen when a picture on the back of the man's newspaper caught my eye. It was a picture of me and Jax entering Valaither. The headline above read 'The two kids who saved the world!'

At first, that annoyed me. It hadn't just been me and Jax who'd stopped Klith. Sam had been there as well, along with her manager Trevor. Then I got an idea. It wasn't an idea I liked very much, but it was probably the only thing that could get me an audience with Owen, excluding blowing up the prison and finding Owen's cell.

I tapped on the glass again. "Hey."

The man lowered his newspaper again, looking annoyed. "What?"

I took a deep breath and mustered up the best impression of Cara I could. "Don't you know who I am?" I drawled, crossing my arms.

"No, not really," the man said degradingly.

"Look at the back of that newspaper and maybe you'll get a clue."

The man flipped it over, and there was a pause as he read the article. He looked up at me, then back to the newspaper, then at me again, his eyes widening with each glance.

"You…you're that kid!" the man gasped. "Herobrine's reincarnation!" The people that were sitting stared at me curiously. One of them craned their neck to get a better look at me.

"That's right," I said smugly. "Now, grant me an audience with Owen Roslyn immediately or I'll…uh…"

Smite thee, Herobrine supplied helpfully.

"Smite thee," I said, and then made a face as I realized what I'd just said.

"Ah…I don't know," the man said, looking stressed. "I'm not sure if…"

I snapped my fingers at him impatiently. Sparks shot from my fingers, which wasn't really intentional, but it helped prove my point.

"…alright, alright. If you'd just hold on for a moment, please." The man turned and pulled out a walkie talkie. He yelled into the walkie talkie and waved his arms a lot before waving me towards an elevator. "Floor B1, visiting room 2."

"Thanks, uh…" I looked at the man's chest, looking for a name tag or something.

Peasant.

"Peasant." I echoed, and then flushed in embarrassment. I quickly turned so he wouldn't see my red face and dashed into the elevator.

"Have…er…fun?" The man said after me as the doors shut.

Herobrine burst into laughter, and I muttered, "Shut it."

Peasant? Herobrine chortled. Seriously?

I decided to ignore him.

The doors slid open, and I stepped into an empty hallway. Iron doors lined the left side, all of them guarded by men wearing leather armor. The sounds of people arguing, crying, and screaming echoed throughout the hallway. Generally, this was not a very happy place.

I found an iron door with the number 2 above it, and when I stepped in Owen was already across from me, behind a glass panel.

"Owen." I let out a breath of relief. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm doing just great. Besides the fact that I've been, you know, arrested." Owen showed me his handcuffed arms with a slight grin. "Room service here is pretty bad, by the way. I'm definitely not going to be rating this place five stars."

"You've been arrested and you're cracking jokes?" I said in disbelief.

Owen shrugged. "Might as well make the most of this situation, eh?"

"You're in jail!"

"Losing your positivity eventually leads to losing your hope." Owen recited. "That's what my uncle told me once."

I frowned. "Your uncle sounds…wise."

"Actually he was a hated con man, but he gives good advice occasionally," Owen said cheerily.

"Oh. That is…" I shook my head. "That's not important. Have they told you the reason for arresting you?"

"I believe I was charged for 'attempted murder and summoning dangerous mobs illegally'," Owen said dryly.

"And destruction of property," I added seriously.

Owen snapped his fingers. "Knew I was forgetting something." He grinned at me, but I didn't return the smile.

"Do they have any proof? At all?" I asked him.

Owen's smile was replaced by a confused frown. "Well…yes, but…it's kinda weird."

"What do you mean?" I urged. "What proof did they find?"

Owen scratched his head. "Apparently they saw me spawn in the withers below the Bedwars map on camera."

I paled. They had footage of Owen placing the withers…on camera?

"But I wasn't there at the time!" Owen insisted. "That couldn't have been me, because I was just making my way to the Bedwars arena at that time! Clyde can vouch for me, he saw me in the hallways the exact same time the withers were spawned."

"Then how do you explain the footage?" I asked.

"I don't know, but when I told the Guardians I had an alibi they just ignored me! Can you believe it?" Owen sighed frustratedly. "And here I thought the Guardians were cool. I'm pretty sure they don't intend on letting me out anytime soon."

"This is nuts." I groaned and put my head in my hands. I looked up at Owen. "You really didn't do it?"

"I think I would remember placing a bunch of withers under the Bedwars map." Owen snorted. "And I don't even know where that place is. I didn't even know there was anything under the Bedwars map."

The iron door behind Owen swung open. "Your time is almost up," the guard grunted.

"What? It's barely been five minutes!" I protested.

"You came without notice, so this is all we can do for you." the guard growled. "If you want to spend longer here then make an appointment next time."

I looked at Owen, who just sighed and shook his head. "You must be fun at parties," Owen told the guard.

The guard snorted but said nothing.

"I'll get you out," I promised him. "I…I don't know how, but I'll get you out."

"Alright," Owen nodded. "Just make sure not to blow me up in the crossfire when you break in."

The guard eyed me suspiciously, and Owen added to the guard, "That was a joke, by the way. Stop getting so wound up, man."

The guard pulled Owen up and dragged him towards the door.

Suddenly an idea popped into my head. "Wait," I said. "Who's the guy that ordered your arrest?"

Owen scrunched up his face in thought. "Uh…I think it was like…Lieutenant Thorne…or something like that."

"Hurry up," the guard grumbled.

"Alright, alright." Owen raised his hands patronizingly. "Gosh, you're such a grump."

As he left, I called, "Stay safe!"

"Only if you do," he called back. The door slammed shut, leaving me with more questions than answers.

?-?-?

My next stop: the Guardian station.

I burst through the doors, and two men stared at me from behind a white counter. One of them, a man in a navy blue uniform, gasped and walked up to me. I spotted a name tag on the man's chest said 'Jace'.

"Miss Deniara?" Jace said curiously. "What are you doing here?"

Being addressed with such respect made me feel kind of uncomfortable. Cara would probably have eaten it up, but I wasn't like that.

"Uh, just call me Toni," I said. "I was told I could speak to a Lieutenant Thorne here…?"

Upon hearing the name, the two men frowned in obvious distaste.

"Really?" Jace said with a frown. "…Thorne? You want…him? Not a more…ahem…experienced Guardian?"

I blinked. "Why, is there something wrong with him?"

The two men exchanged a glance. "You could say that," the one behind the counter said.

"Well, I heard he was the one that ordered an arrest on my friend. Does Owen Cressel ring a bell—?"

"Oh. That's why you're here, huh?" Jace sighed. "Alright then. I suppose I'll notify Lieutenant Thorne that he's got a visitor—"

"No need for that," someone said from behind me. I turned and saw another man in the doorway, wearing the same blue uniform. The name tag on his chest read 'Lieutenant Thorne'.

Thorne was a tall man with perfect curly blond hair and bright blue eyes that matched his uniform. If I hadn't seen the name tag on his chest that read 'Lieutenant Thorne', I would have mistaken him for a model; he had the handsomely chiseled face of one.

"Lieutenant Thorne," Jace said, lowering his head.

"Jack!" Lieutenant Thorne threw his arm around Jace. "How's it been going?"

"Er…good, I suppose." Jace squirmed slightly uncomfortably. "Sir, Miss Deniara here—"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Thorne wagged his finger at Jace. "What do you say back?"

"How have you been, sir?" Judging from Jace's tone, it was clear that this happened a lot. It was also clear that he was tired of it.

"I've been great, thank you very much!" Thorne beamed; he seemed to have a smile permanently attached to his face.

"That's…good to hear," Jace said reluctantly.

Thorne turned and peered down at me. "And who's this?" He asked. As his eyes lingered on me, his eyes widened.

"Uh," I began, "hello—"

"Toni Deniara!" Thorne exclaimed, making me jump. He shoved Jace to the side and spread his arms with a grin. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I inched back slightly, hoping he wasn't expecting a hug or any other similarly touchy gesture. "Uh…I'm here about a recent arrest you've made—"

Thorne didn't wait for me to finish. "Perfect! Please, follow me to my office!" Thorne said brightly. He strode behind the counter through a door, pounding the other Guardian on the back as he did. Both of the men grimaced at me as if to say, 'you see what we mean?'

"Come on, Miss Deniara!" I heard Thorne shout. "I'm a very busy man, you know!"

I followed Thorne through the door, and he whistled as he led us to an office with a glass wall. Through the glass, I saw a well furnished office that gave off the same cozy vibe as a log cabin, though it didn't blend in very well with the rest of the station.

"You've got…a nice office," I said cautiously.

Thorne laughed heartily. "Oh, no, no, no. That's not my office."

Instead of going into the nice looking office with the couch and the neat looking bookshelf, we walked right past it. Thorne stopped in front of what I'd thought had been a broom closet and threw open the door.

"Here we are," he said with a grin. I gaped at the inside; but not because I was impressed. Quite the opposite, actually.

It almost was the size of a broom closet—Thorne's office was a tight room surrounded by stacks of papers and boxes. Thorne's desk was similarly covered in papers, so much so that you couldn't even see the actual wood underneath. Behind the desk, there was a three-legged wooden stool in place of a chair.

This is the office of a lieutenant? Herobrine said in horror. Oh my god. What has the world come to?

"I know it's not as…er…refined as Lieutenant Moor's office, but I'd say it's humbler and just as efficient to work in here." Thorne said cheerfully. "I'd say Miss Valkyrie did me a favor by assigning me this office! Although for some reason she doesn't seem to like me very much."

"Oh. Um." I eyed a stack of boxes near the door that was looked as if it would collapse at any moment. "Yes, it's. Er. Humble?"

"Please, come in." Thorne stepped over a box filled with trinkets and sat down behind his desk. He tried straightening the mess on his desk for a little bit but quickly gave up and folded his hands in his lap, looking up at me pleasantly. I glanced around, looking for another chair, but there were none.

"Oh, just…sit on that box over there." Thorne waved his hand around in the general direction of the corner. "I'm fairly sure it should hold."

This did not help, because the room was filled with boxes, and I was fairly sure none of them would hold my weight.

"I'll just stand if that's okay with you," I said politely.

"Suit yourself." Thorne grinned at me. (God, why did he grin so much? He was like Cara, but instead of only scowling he only grinned.) "So, what does the mighty Herobrine want from me?"

I blinked. "I'm…not Herobrine. I'm Toni Deniara."

"You're his reincarnation though, aren't you?" Thorne said matter-of-factly.

"Well yes, but that's different from actually being Herobrine." I explained.

Thorne shrugged. "It's all the same in my eyes."

I resisted the urge to argue with him. "Oookay. Anyways, I'm here to talk with you about a recent arrest you've made. Does the name Owen Cressel ring a bell?"

"Ah, yes." Thorne smirked. "The evil boy whose nefarious plans you single-handedly foiled! Yes, due to my unparalleled detective skills, he was caught and arrested immediately."

This annoyed me so much that I dropped the respectful tone. "Okay, I'm gonna have to stop you right there. First, I did not kill the Withers single handedly. In fact, I only killed two out of five. Second, I don't believe Owen was behind this."

Thorne shook his head as if I'd just claimed that the moon was fake. "Your doubts are unfounded. We've got video evidence."

"Show me," I demanded. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Thorne frowned. "I'm not supposed to show people that sort of important evidence."

It took me all I had not to cringe as I said with a fake grin, "but you can make an exception for the mighty Herobrine, can't you?"

Herobrine snorted a laugh.

Not a word, Brian.

Thorne stared at me for a moment before shrugging. "I suppose I don't see the harm."

He turned and began fiddling with what I'd thought was just another box behind his desk, but was actually a square TV.

The screen flickered on. I leaned forwards to get a closer look.

My heart sank. Right there in the middle of the screen was unmistakably Owen, placing down soul sand and glowing skulls in what seemed to be some sort of boiler room. Once he placed down the last few skulls, the T-shaped soul sand figures began to glow. Owen sprinted out of the room and just seconds later, the withers exploded violently, blasting the room apart.

Thorne reversed the tape a little. "The criminal scum was caught dead center in the middle of the screen." Thorne said this so triumphantly that it made me want to smack him.

Owen was in clear view of the camera. What's more, his face was angled towards the camera, removing any doubt that it was just a look-alike. The longer I looked, the more it unnerved me. Owen's face was completely expressionless, as if he was bored. It made me shiver—that blank expression did not belong on Owen's face.

"Did you check the time?" I managed.

"Four thirty five," Thorne asserted, unaware of the inner turmoil I was going through. "Exactly the time the withers rose. We also found a bottle with a tiny bit of invisibility potion in it outside the room. Perhaps he drank it before entering and discarded it after he escaped?"

I scowled. "If he had an invisibility potion, why was he visible that entire time?"

"Ah." Thorne raised his finger. "Say no more." He reversed the footage some more, before Owen came into the room.

At first, the room was empty. Then suddenly Owen faded into existence. He blinked, like he was surprised.

"Looks like the potion didn't last as long as he thought it would," chortled Thorne. "Amateur."

I took a nearby box and sat on it heavily, making it crumple under my weight. All of the evidence really seemed to point to him.

I remembered Owen's earnest expression when I'd visited him. Had it really all been a lie? I stared at Owen's face, willing it to become someone else's. Maybe Klith's face. Or Jared's.

What? Herobrine exclaimed. Come on, Toni! You're really gonna believe it's Owen because of some idiot's security footage?

"He's right there," I said, defeated. "It's not exactly the kind of proof you can easily dismiss."

"Exactly," Thorne said, not knowing that I wasn't talking to him. "You get it now, right?"

Herobrine was quiet for a moment before saying, His eyes. Look at them.

I frowned. "His eyes?"

Thorne blinked. "His eyes?"

I ignored Thorne as I leaned forwards and squinted at the TV. "I can't even see his eyes."

Tell the idiot to go back to the part where you can see his face.

"Can you go back to the part where you can see his face?" I asked.

Thorne obliged, and Owen appeared on the screen again, but this time his face was much clearer. I could see his eyes now. I frowned. His eyes weren't their usual leaf green. Instead, they were…red?

"Red," I murmured. "But it could be a camera glitch."

Herobrine huffed. Do you want Owen to be guilty or something? Fine. Let's watch the recording from the start, but let's watch his eyes the whole time as best as we can.

"Replay the clip," I told Thorne. "From the beginning."

"Now hold on," Thorne said with the energy of a mother teaching an infant how to spell. "First I'd like to know what's going on in your head, miss—"

"It's my head, not yours." I snapped. "Just do it." Yeah, it was kind of unnecessarily rude, but I was starting to lose my patience with the guy.

Thorne grudgingly replayed the clip, and I made sure to watch Owen's eyes the whole time. It wasn't easy, because Owen's eyes were hard to follow in this grainy footage, and most of the time you couldn't even see his eyes.

But in the moments that you could see them, they were unmistakably red.

At this point there was no doubt in my mind. "His eyes are red," I told Thorne. "Look at them."

Thorne frowned and rewatched the clip again. After the clip was over, he frowned. "I mean…it doesn't seem likely. Red isn't really a natural eye color."

I almost wanted to slap him. "That's my point. Owen's eyes are green, not red. And his face is shown really clearly, right there at the end. Look!"

Thorne rewatched the clip one last time, and then sighed. "It certainly does seem that way, yes."

"So? Can we get him out now? Because that's clearly not Owen." I demanded.

Thorne rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, Miss Deniara, but this isn't exactly the proof I'm looking for. I understand you want to believe he's innocent—"

"He IS innocent!"

"—but unfortunately, this won't be enough to prove his innocence. Like you said earlier, it may just be a glitch. Or perhaps he's wearing contact lenses."

"Why would he be wearing—!?" I stopped myself. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. After all, his eyes being a different color wasn't exactly irrefutable proof.

Suddenly the door behind me opened, and someone peeked their head in. "Sir? We've got an issue."

Thorne grunted. "Is it Zachary again?"

"Yes. He's fallen down the stairs again."

"That idiot," Thorne grumbled. "I keep telling him to use the guardrails, but he keeps insisting it would be a sign of weakness." He turned to me. "I'll be back in a moment, Miss Deniara." And with that, he left me alone in the office.

For a while, all I did was mindlessly rewatch the footage, over and over again until I'd practically memorized the whole video. I guess I was hoping I'd find some sort of irrefutable evidence that could prove Owen's innocence, but unfortunately, no such thing occurred.

Eventually I got sick of watching the footage and began glancing around the room, fidgeting with my hands. I didn't wanna search Thorne's office, because that seemed slightly rude. But the longer Thorne was gone, the more antsy I got.

Eventually I gave in. I'll just take a tiny look around, I told myself.

I spotted something glinting in a trash bin, and walked over to it. I squinted into the trash can.

It was a small vial with what looked to be a tiny amount of potion in it. I pulled it out of the trash can. Yeah, I know, kinda gross, but I was curious.

I didn't recognize the potion. It wasn't pink like a healing potion, or silver like an invisibility potion, or even green like poison. It looked…clear, like regular water. Except it couldn't have been water, because the liquid was shimmering with all sorts of colors. It was like somebody had enchanted water.

"Herobrine, you know what this is?" I said aloud.

I was never much of a potion guy, Herobrine said regretfully. I couldn't tell you the difference between a potion of invisibility or slowness.

I almost wanted to drink it, but that probably wasn't the smartest idea. I'm not sure what compelled me to put it in my pocket, but later I'd be glad I did.

I gave everything a quick glance. I wasn't even looking for anything in particular—I was just bored.

You enjoy school, but you get bored easily. Herobrine snorted. That's an oxymoron if I've ever seen one.

"There's at least work to do and people to listen to at school," I pointed out. "Sitting in a room, alone, with nothing to do, is different."

I opened a few boxes, looked at a few papers, but didn't find anything interesting. Mostly just paperwork and other boring stuff.

While looking around on Thorne's desk, I spotted a book with a leather cover on the desk that was locked shut by a small padlock. 'Journal', it said on the front with big bold letters.

Ooo, his journal! Herobrine said excitedly. Let's look in it!

I wrinkled my nose. "Looking through someone's private journal? No thank you."

Oh, come on! You like to read, right? Let's read it!

"I like reading books," I reminded him, "not private journals."

I could practically hear Herobrine's pout. You're no fun.

"I'm respectful of other people's privacy," I corrected him. "And besides, it's locked."

Please, Herobrine scoffed. It's a dinky little lock. I bet it's not even real metal.

I picked up the diary. "Why do you wanna read it so much, anyways?"

Because, uh… Herobrine's voice took on a mysterious tone. Because I foresee that this book will have the answer you are looking for!

"Since when have you been able to see the future?" I teased him.

Okay, fine. I just wanna read it because everything else is boring, Herobrine admitted. Can you blame me for wanting a little entertainment?

"No matter how bored you are, we're not reading the diary." I sighed.

Read it!

"Ugh, no! Why are you so insistent on this?"

REEEEAAD IT!

"Oh my god, we are not reading this diary!" I shouted, tossing it hard onto the desk.

Perhaps a little too hard, considering how the lock snapped and flew away onto the floor.

I froze and stared at the broken lock on the ground.

I knew it! Herobrine declared. It wasn't metal! Ten emeralds says it's plastic.

"Oh crap!" I fell to the ground and picked up the lock. It was broken for sure—it had entirely snapped in half.

I felt anxiety take hold of my heart. "Oh god. Thorne's gonna be pissed."

I dunno, Herobrine said. He doesn't seem like the type to get mad. Especially at The Great and Mighty Herobrine.

"This isn't a joke," I snapped. "He kept his journal locked for a reason, and when he comes back he's gonna think I broke it on purpose."

Herobrine was silent, but I could feel his grin. Eventually he said, Well, since it's been opened, you might as well read it.

"Seriously? That's what you're thinking?" I demanded. "You know, this is actually all your fault! You kept pushing me to open the journal!"

You're the one who threw it, not me.

I huffed in annoyance. "I didn't throw it! I dropped it a little hard and it broke! Maybe it's the lock's fault for being so fragile, huh? Who makes a lock that easy to break?"

Just blaming everything except yourself, huh? Herobrine said dryly.

"Shut up, you." I scolded him, and then looked down at the journal.

If Thorne saw this, he'd probably get mad and kick me out, and I'd lose my shot at convincing him to let out Owen. So what could I do?

I thought of just hiding the journal in one of the surrounding boxes. I mean, there were a lot of them, so he probably wouldn't find it for a while, and when he did he probably wouldn't suspect me.

But I was just a little curious. No matter what I tried to tell Herobrine.

I slowly opened the journal.

What was that about being respectful of people's privacy? Herobrine said smugly.

"Oh, shut up," I said again. "I'm just taking a look."

It was all pretty standard stuff, with a few things here and there that made me raise my eyebrows.

"As expected," I snorted. "I don't get why you wanted to read this so much."

Yeah, this blows. Herobrine agreed. Let's just leave now.

"But—" I sighed. I'd pretty much given up on convincing Thorne to help Owen now. "Sure, yeah."

I was about to shut the journal when a sentence at the bottom of a page caught my eye.

When this happens, I want you to pin the crime on a boy named Owen Cressel.

…huh?

I went to the top of the page and began to read.

Journal Entry #96

TOP SECRET

Today was…ah…eventful, to say the least. First there was the news of Zachary breaking the coffee machine. I swear, that boy's going to be the end of me. Then I had an unpleasant talk with my mother…honestly, she talks like I'm a rather disappointing pet she has.

And…well…something else. Let me tell you.

It was three A.M. There I was in my office doing much needed detective work, like I always do. There weren't many people in the station, and the people that were there were half asleep. Slackers, I tell you.

And at that moment, someone slid a letter underneath my door! Later I asked the people that were there that day, but they said they never saw anybody enter the station. What a travesty—what police station just allows random people to walk in? He could have been an assassin! I could have been killed because of their negligence!

But that's not the point. It turns out, the letter…and you won't believe this…was from KLITH HIMSELF!

I stopped reading. The gears in my brain ground to a halt. I reread the line several times to make sure I was reading it right.

KLITH? Herobrine sounded as astounded as I felt. Like. That Klith? The ultra murdery one?

"There's more," I murmured, and turned the page.

But the subject of the letter was even stranger than it's recipient. This is what the letter said.

Dear Lieutenant Thorne. I am Klith. You may not believe me—that does not matter. You do not need to know who I am for this.

Soon, there will be an accident at Valaither. Don't try to stop it or warn anybody. That won't go well for you.

When this happens, I want you to pin the crime on a boy named Owen Cressel. If this is done correctly, you will receive five thousand emeralds as payment. It will be easy to do this, as evidence will be put in place.

Afterwards, have him sent out of Valaither to be 'transferred to another prison'. During this transfer…

I blanched. Herobrine made a sound of shock.

…have Owen Cressel killed, and frame it as a freak accident. If this task is completed, you will receive another five thousand emeralds.

There was a stunned silence.

You know when I told you this journal would have the answer you were looking for? Herobrine said flatly. That was a joke. I was kidding.

And you know what's crazy? They sent me five thousand emeralds! Just to show me that they'd be able to pay me! I think I'm the luckiest man in Valaither, dear journal…I don't know if the recipient was really Klith or not, but it doesn't matter.

If this goes right, I'll have fifteen thousand emeralds!

I snapped the book shut. The look on my face must have been priceless.

"This…this is…" My voice shook.

I know, Herobrine said, sounding horrified.

"We should hand this in," I said. "Not only to get out Owen—but to get that piece of trash arrested."

But before I could do so, I heard the door open behind me, and my brain went into auto pilot.

I tossed the journal away, and it flew over the desk and landed in one of the boxes. I quickly turned to face Thorne with an incredibly forced grin. "Hey."

Why did I throw it. Oh my god I'm so dumb.

"Hello, Miss Deniara." Thorne sighed heavily. He didn't seem to have noticed me throwing the journal, which was lucky. "I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid our time has run out. I've got to take Michael to the hospital. Idiot boy," he muttered under his breath.

"Um…what?"

"Nothing." Thorne flashed me another grin and clapped me on the back. "I hope to see you again some time, Miss Deniara. Come to me any time you need a mystery to be solved."

Was it just me, or was his smile more malevolent than it had been before?

"Sure," I said slowly, and then got out of there as fast as I could.

On the way out, I walked past a harassed looking Jace, who muttered "Incompetence" and gave Thorne a dirty look. Upon spotting me, he saluted me, which made me flush a little. I awkwardly saluted him back and left the station.

Once I was outside, I began to run as fast as I could away from the station. I'm not sure why—I just wanted to get away from there as fast as possible.

After a few minutes, I slowed down and caught my breath. My mind was spinning.

I'd gone to the Guardian station to see if I could get Owen out of prison. Instead, I found the one who put him there in the first place.

And another realization hit me like a blunt axe to the chest.

The broken lock was still on the floor of Thorne's office.

He'd see it. And he'd know.