Camilla had cast a sleep spell on Dylan as soon as she reached them and Phil again, so they weren’t sure how long or how far they traveled.  What was clear was that there was no way to escape, at least not without risking their neck.  They awoke on what could only be described as a hammock and outside the room they could hear voices.  Neither of them were at all familiar.

Dylan sat up in the cloth bed and took stock of their surroundings.  It was a bedroom all right.  A chest of drawers sat in one corner and there was a wardrobe built into the wall.  Most interesting to them, however, was the bookshelf and desk in another corner.  The bookshelf was made of a dark wood and crammed with books.  As for the desk, it appeared to be made out of the same material as the bookshelf.  Papers were strewn about as if the person who usually occupied this room was too busy to organize.

Quietly, they climbed out of the hammock and to the door, pressing an ear to it.

“…who he is.”

“He was a student at the school.  That makes him a victim.”

“And the son of a noble.”  One of the unfamiliar voices, that of a man who sounded like he was around Dylan’s father’s age, also bore a note of frustration.  “Unless they’re holding him for ransom, this is a terrible idea.”

“Henry, he’s… they couldn’t leave him.  He was so scared.  And that teacher just left him.”

“Michael House is being dealt with, Grace.  For now, you need to tend to your unexpected guest.  I’ll inform her of what happened; she’s got a lot on her mind.”

Dylan scrambled backward, their back hitting the wooden wall behind them as the door opened to reveal a girl around their age wearing a green tunic and brown leggings.  Her dark red hair was tied in pigtails over her shoulders with only a single lock allowed the freedom to blow in the wind.  Her eyes, which were a pretty sea-green color, met their own hazel ones with a gentleness Dylan wasn’t quite used to.

“Hello,” she greeted them with a smile.  “Good to see you awake.  Thought the spell would wear off sooner, sorry.”

Dylan blinked in surprise.

“Allow me to introduce myself—my name is Grace Promachos.”  She pressed a hand to her chest, then extended it to Dylan.  “What might your name be?”

The heir to the throne shook their head, refusing to answer.  She sighed, dropping her hand.

“Yeah, should’ve expected as much.  Listen, those two didn’t really have a choice back there.  They weren’t supposed to be seen as much as they were.”

“What about the fires?” Dylan spat.

“That wasn’t us.  That was Hamelin soldiers.  They set fire to some storehouses we’d been using while the two who brought you here were on a supply run.”  Dylan narrowed their eyes.  “Believe me or don’t.  We’re not enemies of the kingdom.”

“Right, because loyal citizens raise armies and raid villages.”  She grit her teeth, then sighed, muttering something under her breath before motioning for Dylan to follow.

“Come with me.  I’m gonna show you something.”

Reluctantly, Dylan followed Grace out of the dwelling.  It was then that they realized that they were in the middle of a rebel encampment.  Ramshackle houses were scattered around the edges of the clearing and there were people doing everything from cleaning to training with weapons.  They spotted Phil scrubbing the outside of a house, looking displeased.  Grace pressed a finger to her lips, then picked up a tiny pebble and chucked it at the boy.  Phil let out a yelp, rubbing the back of his head before whirling around to face the two.

“Very funny, Graceless,” he snorted, narrowing his chocolate-brown eyes.

“It was.  Why do you think I did it?”  Grace crossed her arms.  “Besides, I’m not the one in trouble.”

“Why is he in trouble?” Dylan inquired.

“Because of the way he handled you.  He was supposed to just talk to you and ask you to come willingly so we could explain.”

Phil muttered under his breath, looking away from Grace as she took Dylan’s arm.

“C’mon, I’m supposed to take you to see my sister.”

Dylan went with her, not that they had much of a choice, and they came to a dwelling that was substantially larger than the others.  It was two stories where most of the others were one, and the steps led to a large platform that seemed to serve as a porch and a stage for people to speak off of.  Grace walked right up to the double doors and threw them open to reveal that it led to what must have been a massive meeting hall, big enough to hold dozens of people.  And at the end of the hall was another platform.  On this platform was a woman with the same dark red hair as Grace, tied back in a high bun.  She was tall and rather solidly built, definitely not fat but not skinny either.  Her clothing consisted of the same olive-green that Grace wore, except she also wore a dark brown cloak.

“Hey!  I brought him!” Grace announced, running across the hall and dragging Dylan behind her.  The woman turned, and her hazel eyes reminded Dylan of their father’s.

“Ah, so you have,” the woman responded.  She was older than Dylan and Grace, perhaps in her twenties, and she had the air of a noble.  Not the stuffy ‘I know best because of family money and honor’ but the true ‘I need to make tough decisions on behalf of my people’ air that they’d always felt nobles should have.

“Did Henry come find you?”  Grace was moving right along.  “He said he was going to.”

“He did.  He’s with the rest of the war council, discussing our plans moving forward.”

“…so why aren’t you in there?”  The younger girl gestured to the door.

“Simple.”  The woman smiled at Dylan, and suddenly they felt assured that they were in the right place.  “I wanted to meet our guest myself before I made a decision.”

“He won’t tell you his name.  I asked and he just stared at me.”

“It’s only fair.  We took him from a place he knew and we’re strangers.”  She looked to Dylan.  “What is your name?”

They hesitated, then took a deep breath.

“My name is Dylan.  And… I’m not mad I was taken.”

“Our records of the school indicate it wasn’t a good institution.”

“It wasn’t.  My mother wouldn’t let me leave it, so I guess this was my only way out short of running away.”  They stared up at her as she descended the staircase to stand in front of them.  She extended a hand.

“Well, then, I’m glad we were able to help, Dylan.”  Dylan accepted the handshake, then tilted their head.

“What’s your name, ma’am?  Just so I know what to call you.”

“Most call me the Supreme Rat, the Commander, or the Queen.  But… you can call me Piper.  That’s my name.”

Dylan stared and then felt themselves falling forward as the world went black.