For a King of the Serpent people, Gargaron's chambers were astonishingly simple.

The room was furnished with a wooden table and the grey cloth armchair he sat in. Its stone walls were bare but for fiery torches that lit and warmed the small space. Gargaron wore nothing but a thin dress the color of seaweed, which dulled even his brilliant gold scales.

When the Serguards opened the rickety door and pushed us into his chambers, he burst into a sunny smile.

My mind couldn't decide if it should be afraid or bewildered. For someone who called himself a King, he sure didn't live or behave like one.

"I assume you escaped the illusions," said the King, clasping his clawed fingers together. "Intriguing. How ever did you do it? The last - and only - guy who did it escaped before we got to ask him."

"If I tell you will you let us go?" I had a sudden, paranoid fear that they might keep us for experiments.

"Oh yes." Gargaron sat back in his chair and it exhaled a puff of dust. "You have a King's word. We have enough energy sources. You're all free to go once you let me in on your little secret."

I clenched my fist. "How do I know I can trust you? You almost imprisoned me and my friends for eternity."

Gargaron smiled and waved a nonchalant hand. "We never keep people for life. When new ones come in, we let the old ones out." As he spoke, a glimmer appeared in his eyes. The same glimmer I had seen numerous times in Achilles' gold ones.

"So four people lose their chance of leaving if we go?" asked Marylea, her voice tinny.

"Yes. But it won't be long until someone new comes along. People will always want to meet the Keeper." There, that glimmer again.

"This is ridiculous," said Keenan, his voice strong. "What do you need from us?"

Gargaron's lips curved and he leaned towards us. "Your desires." He stood. "You see, us Serpents, we're a simple race. We don't desire much, only to survive. Humans, on the other hand, want all sorts of things. It is this want, this desire, that we feed off on. Desire brings power, because it's ultimately tied to hope. We draw this energy, and we flourish. You will be surprised how much strength your desire holds. I admire your willpower and strength. It is something our race treasures. So, my dear girl, how did you wake?"

"If I tell you," I said slowly, "Will you give us our things back?"

"Your things?" Gargaron asked. "Oh. Your clothes and weapons? I'm sorry, can't have you armed while you're here, can we?"

"No offence," said Fabe, "but I feel like a million ticks are crawling over my skin."

"Shhh," said Gargaron. "Let the girl speak."

I cocked my head. "Our clothes and weapons?"

"Clothes, yes. Weapons, no. Don't you trust us?" He grinned, showing off a perfect row of pointed teeth.

"This whole situation makes it a little hard to trust you."

"You have no choice," said Gargaron. "Now tell, before I lose my patience."

I clenched my fist and said simply, "There is no secret. All I did was wake up."

Gargaron sneered. "Your answer is a little short for my taste. Care to elaborate, missy?"

I felt something stab my heart; recalling the illusion sliced me open inside. I swallowed, hard. "My illusion took a turn for the worse, and I woke."

Gargaron raised an eyebrow. "Took a turn for the worse, eh? Something must be wrong with our serum. Your illusions were meant to be perfect." He snapped his clawed fingers. "That, or you must be gifted." With a flick of his finger, he beckoned me to him. Before I could react, scaled hands gripped my arms and dragged me to him.

"Don't hurt her," said Keenan. He stepped forward, and two guards immediately grabbed onto him.

"I'll be okay," I called over my shoulder. I sounded convincing even to myself.

Gargaron licked his claw and sneered. "Let's see how gifted you are." In a brisk motion, he nicked my right arm. I cried out in pain. A small trickle of blood rolled out of the cut. He brushed his finger over my wound, its hard scales rubbing against the tender area. I tried my best not to wince. I didn't want him to see my weakness.

Gargaron brought his blood-stained finger to his lips. A forked tongue darted out of his mouth, and he tasted my blood with loud, smacking noises.

His face brightened. "I knew it."

I caught a sinister flash in his eyes and kept my silence.

"You -" He pointed a finger at me, the one stained with my blood. "You carry His gifts. Who are you? How did you get them?"

I wished my mind worked quick enough to come up with a clever way to get us out of this safely, but it didn't. So I just said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Gargaron laughed. "Perhaps he's waiting for a time to reveal himself to you. Who am I to thwart the plans he has for you?" He waved a scaly arm. "You and your friends are free to go."

I heard Fabe's surprised cry from behind me. "Really?"

"Oh, wait." He fixed his bronze cat-eyes at me. "Before you leave, I'd like you to pass a message on to the Keeper. Tell her we know about her little secret, and we're not afraid to use it." He smiled, his fangs glinting in the flickering torchlight. "Very well then. Go."

We were silent as the Serguards escorted us towards the cave exit. My mind was brimming with questions. What was it he tasted in my blood that led to his crazy speech? Who was this enigmatic "He" that Gargaron spoke of?

As the guards dragged us along the dimly-lit tunnels, I rubbed shoulders with Keenan. We exchanged equally concerned glances. I was sure he was itching to hole himself up in the library to research the Serpeople, and find out if Gargaron's speech held any ground.

We neared the dungeons where other human prisoners remained imprisoned. I didn't know who they were or what they were like. They could be the hoodlums Jud spoke of with distaste in his usually cheery eyes. Or they could be innocent citizens of the Realm, simply seeking an audience with the revered Keeper.

All I knew was we couldn't leave them here. For some reason, my gut wasn't entirely convinced Gargaron was speaking the truth when he said he released prisoners on a regular basis.

The guards escorting us chatted to themselves, confident we weren't a threat. After all, we were unarmed, weak, and drained from our illusions.

They had underestimated us.

"Hey, Serguards," I said.

The two turned around, bewildered at my nerve. I steeled my left foot on the ground and sent my right sailing in a round kick. Just like Tem had shown me. My sandals connected with their jaws, sending them flying to the ground. Most importantly, their tridents were knocked out of their hands and clattered to the ground.

"Keenan, grab the other!" I commanded, as I darted for the closest trident. Keenan snapped into action quick for a scholar cooped up in a dark library, and snatched up the second trident. Together, we pointed the tridents at their previous owners. "Not a cry," I said.

"What do you want?" snarled one of the Serguards. "We were letting you go."

"Sorry," I said. "Now sleep tight." I brought the edge of the trident onto his forehead. His eyes rolled shut and head slumped to the side. Next to me, Keenan did the same.

"I don't think I've done that before," Keenan wheezed.

"You did great," I said. "Now let's go save the others."

Marylea jogged to keep up. "Am I the only one who's surprised by the sudden turn of events?"

Fabe snorted. "If you were, you don't know Ash well enough."

"Listen," I said. "No one gets hurt. Not even the Serguards. I just want the other prisoners to be safe."

"You sure this is a good idea, Ash?" asked Keenan, who jogged to my side. "What if the prisoners are the hoodlums Jud was talking about?"

I paused to think of an answer. But I found none. I was acting on pure gut instinct; there was no logic with what we were doing. "If they are those hoodlums Jud spoke of, I'm sure they'll be grateful," I said lamely. "At least I hope so."

The dungeons were silent except for the occasional moan and shout of laughter. Anyone who didn't know what was going on would think this was a looney house.

"Sounds like they're enjoying themselves," said Fabe. "Perhaps we shouldn't spoil their fun. Hey, I'm just kidding."

As I jogged towards the dungeons, I noticed a faded red door to my right. It had a round window at the top, and no laughter or moans were coming out of it. I peeked in. It was not lit inside, but as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw mountains of weapons: axes, knives, bows, swords, shields. Weapons collected by the Serpeople from their prisoners.

In the midst of all that chaos, I spotted my dear sword. My heart seemed to sprout wings and soar up my throat. Then I saw two Cavals, sprawled on top of a clothing pile on the right of the room: my white one, glowing faintly in the dark, and Keenan's midnight blue one, barely visible in the darkness.

I gestured towards the door, and my friends emitted gasps as they looked through the window.

The door wasn't locked. We entered the room cautiously, checked for movement, then, once we decided the coast was clear, helped ourselves to our weapons and more. I slid my Caval onto my shoulders, feeling warm and protected again. My sword rested in its hilt by my right hip, where it should be.

"I feel better prepared to free some humans now," said Fabe, patting the axe Jud had given him.

We surveyed the dungeons. There were four prisoners, all of them burly, hairy men. My mind flashed to Jud's mention of hoodlums, whom he'd sent to the Keeper through the same route. Could these men really be them?

Cold foreboding slithered up my back. Jud hadn't told us why he'd classified the men as "hoodlums."

Hoodlums or not, we couldn't leave them here.

"Just shake them and they'll wake," I said. The others nodded, and we split up to wake the remaining prisoners. "Be careful," I added.

I entered the cell of a man whose thick mop of black hair and beard was knotted and housed sand and grit. He lay up against the stone wall, arms outstretched, and I saw a series of black crosses and dots lining his skin. His grimy lips were puckered, and he cooed with his eyes closed. He was dressed in a gray cloth, which looked like rats had decided to make their bathroom.

Trying to keep my stomach bile down, I reached out, gripped his shoulder and shook. Then I backed away and placed my hand on my sword hilt.

First, he lowered his arms. Then his swollen eyes blinked once, twice. They carried a far-off, dazed expression before they focused on the wall directly ahead of him. He scanned the surroundings and his gaze landed on me.

"Who're you?" he slurred. "Where's Mathilda and Jane?"

"You were dreaming," I said. "It was an illusion. The Serpeople have been keeping you in that illusion until we woke you."

He blinked. "Why'd you wake me? I was having a hell of a time in there."

Irritation pricked me.

"You're welcome to stay if you like," I said.

"No, wait." He staggered to his feet, leaning on the wall for support. "I remember now. Those morons captured me and my guys. We were on our way to see the Keeper." He grinned, his teeth stained with black. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I said, a tad surprised by his manners. "Why were you going to see the Keeper?"

He staggered towards me, holding his hands out for balance. He walked like a drunkard. "We were going to ask the ol' mighty Keeper to do something about our home. Killi Swamp. The barren marshland that isn't fit for any living soul to trod upon, let alone live in. We're worthy of more." His footsteps steadied. "Where're my friends?"

A gruff voice called from the corridor. "Geary? Is that you?"

Geary walked past me and pushed the door open. "Stieve, it's you!" The two men hugged and clapped each other on the back. "We're free now. We're free!"

I stood back, watching the two men embrace with a sick feeling in my gut. Stieve, too, was covered in black dots and crosses, though it wasn't only on his arms, but the back of his neck as well. He had tangled red hair that fell over his broad shoulders, and a thick beard that had seen better days.

"Almost," said Keenan, who emerged from one of the cells. "We need to get out of here first."

Stieve's eyes widened. "Louey? Ey, Louey!" Steve acted like he didn't hear us and went to hug his friend. "How was your dream? Did you have fun?"

Louey had a pony tail that resembled the straw end of a broom and looked none too happy to be woken. He winced as Stieve squeezed him. "My ribs hurt."

The last guy emerged, and the others cried out in unison, "Oswald!" Oswald had a thick, blonde beard and a shiny head. The four huddled together other like a ball team.

"Okay, guys, we need to go," I said. "We didn't exactly cover our tracks."

The guy named Stieve with an eyepatch over his left eye turned to look at me. "Tracks? What tracks?"

"We knocked out a couple of Serguards," said Marylea. "And we had no place to hide them."

"Serguards?" Stieve's face went blank for a moment, then recognition filled in. "Are you talking about those stinking snake-like creatures who lured us into their caves?" A menacing glint flickered in his eye. "I'll kill them!"

His companions cheered. "Kill those dumb beasts!"

Bile pushed up my throat. "No! No one gets hurt. We leave, now."

"After what those serpents did to us?" Geary growled. "Look at my beard! I must've been stuck in here for years!" He turned to his companions. "I say we get some weapons and rid these caves of those filth." He directed his gaze towards me and pointed at my sword. "Where'd you get that?"

I was freaking out inside, wondering what monsters I'd just unleashed.

"Where'd you get that sword?"

"They left it with me," I said, gripping my hilt.

"You're a terrible liar," he snarled. "Come on. Let's search!"

"Don't kill them!" I said. "They were going to release you."

Geary snorted. "No one leaves these caves. We're lucky we're alive."

"Don't be stupid," said Marylea. "We're frightfully outnumbered."

Geary seemed to think for a second. "Then we'll kill any guards we see."

A whoop rang the air. "Found it!" said the guy named Oswald. He pulled the weapons room door open and they filed it like monkeys that'd found a banana stash.

"Trout," I cursed.

They ran out carrying a bevy of weapons, which they hoisted in the air. "Let's go kill some serpent filth!" They roared with cheers and filed out the dungeons.

"We have to stop them," I said, but even as I said it, I knew it was no use. Trying to stop them would be counterproductive.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," said Keenan. "You were doing the right thing."

"Innocent people might die," I said. "How did I do the right thing?"

"Serpeople," Marylea corrected.

"You did the only thing you would've done," Keenan said. "C'mon. Time to find a way out."

Fabe put a hand on my shoulder. "If those hoodlums were right, and the Serpeople never meant to release us - they sort of saved us, didn't they?"

If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn't.