Kelsie sat around the fire pit, the flame flickering high and low, painting a warm picture in oranges, yellows and reds. Zander had made a surprisingly good meal, and the warm shower and clean clothes helped. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Kelsie tried to let her mind and body rest, but her mind continued working. Pulsing questions that had no answers and begged for resolution, sighing, she rubbed at her face, running her hands through her long black hair. The tension in her shoulders and back grew as the questions were repeated on a loop.

What did her parents look like now?

Why were they in hiding?

Why hadn't Connie told her they were alive?

Could Zander be right about why Assassins were after them?

Why hadn't Zander really taken the shot?

Was Connie doing alright without her?

Why did she feel like she needed to keep moving when she was exhausted?

Would she make it in time?

Why was this happening now?

Two breaths, and the loop began once more. Feeling the tug of exhaustion, Kelsie moved to her stretcher and lay staring at the ceiling. Finally, her eyelids closed, and her breathing became deep, but the questions still ran their loop, adding to them as her body rested.

Zander stacked the last dishes away, clearing the only work counter and making himself something warm to drink. The fire did its job in the cooking department, but the caves could get cold at night. Kelsie moved to the sleeping area, sighing as she lay on the stretcher, staring at the ceiling, her black hair fanning out on the pillow, slowly her eyes shut. She hadn't said much since they had discovered the rooms, and she had eaten in silence. The black smudges under her eyes indicated she hadn't had much rest in the past few days, and perhaps tonight would be a respite for all of them.

He pulled a blanket from a storage cupboard and covered her, careful not to wake her from her slumber. He had so many questions, so many thoughts jumbling around demanding answers. Jason came from the bathroom freshly showered.

"Feeling better?" Zander asked, leaving Kelsie to sleep.

"Cleaner, warmer and fresher," Jason joked, "she has finally fallen asleep."

Zander nodded, "Why are we being hunted?"

"Kelsie is being tracked," Jason supplied, "you're being hunted."

"Semantics," Zander shook his head, "but why?"

"You wondered earlier if it was to do with your parents," Jason said, "I think you're correct."

"If my parents are alive, why all this to get them to come out?" Zander switched off the singing kettle, pouring the steaming water into the teapot; the smell of freshly brewing leaves wafted up. "What has it all to do with us?"

"I don't have all those answers," Jason said, "why not get some sleep, and we can tackle the answers in the morning."

"Sure," Zander sighed, "go ahead. I'm going to finish this before getting a little sleep."

"If you decide to do some research," Jason indicated the doorway, "remember only paper research. If anything electronic is picked up, you could give this place away."

"I did attend the Espionage 101 class," Zander grinned, "but thank you for the reminder."

He watched Jason move toward his stretcher. Things were not adding up. Something was left out of the information loop; they may need to find out what that was to move forward. Zander frowned; all they had learnt in the past few hours filled some gaps, but there was one thing he was unsure of; pulling the folder out of his backpack, he sat at the table and began to read with a searching mind. Half an hour later, he blinked rapidly, shook his head and shifted. Marking the point, he looked away, closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, exhaling as he opened his eyes and continued reading.

"I'll be damned," he muttered, "enough truth interwoven with lies." Flipping to more information he had uncovered and received, he read, "it's everywhere. What are they hiding?"

Pushing away from the table, folder in hand, he headed for the doorway, pushed the indentation and strode into the room where the paperwork was stored. Instinct slammed into him. Someone had been here, things were rearranged, moved, closed books were open, and open books were closed.

"Who is in here?" he called, but silence answered, "come out now."

Nothing moved, no one answered, and silence drew into a nerve-racking experience. Carefully sitting at one of the tables, pushing aside some papers, a photo drew his attention, "What is this?"

"What is what?" Kelsie asked from the doorway.

Zander spun around, glaring at her, "Don't do that again if you want to live."

"Sorry," she said, raising her hands to shoulder height in surrender, "I didn't mean to startle you. I woke from a ... dream and saw the door was open."

"Nightmares suck," he nodded, "I have them as well. I found this," he pulled the photo to the top of the pile.

"Has someone been here?" Kelsie asked, looking around.

"Yes," Zander nodded, "it looks as though someone knows what we're looking for or overheard all our questions."

"I've seen this," Kelsie said, "my mother used to wear something like this on a necklace," her eyes narrowed, "so did Aunt Connie."

"My dad had something like this too," Zander said, "but I think they are all part of a whole."

"What do you mean?" Kelsie frowned, "part of what?"

"This," Zander shuffled papers pulling out a large sheet with a picture of an ancient crest on it. "See there on the side; it has faint lines with these words at the one end while connecting to different sections."

"I do," Kelsie said, "it looks like these are in another language."

"It's Latin," Zander said, "I had to take Latin when I was younger; it's rusty but let me see what I can make out what is written."

"Regime familiam Unum" he read aloud, "that doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?" Kelsie stared at him, "what does it mean?"

"Royal Family one," Zander whispered, "it cannot be."

"What cannot be," Kelsie frowned, "I don't understand what does a royal family have to do with us?"

"My father had a genealogy of our family," Zander began looking through the books. Stopping when he found what he was looking for, "it cannot be," he said, sucking in air. "This is my father's handwriting, and look at the date."

Looking over Zander's shoulder, she gasped, "Three days ago."

Zander flipped to the front of the book running his fingers down a long list of Latin words, "Here," he said. "Regiae familiae additamenta .... Kelsie," he whispered, indicating the names under the heading.

"That's our names," she gasped, "what does the heading say?"

"Royal Family One Additions," he whispered, "do you know what that means?"

"We're royalty and didn't know it?" she shrugged, confused, shaking her head.

"Think about it," he said, "you walk into a room and see all angles like you did earlier. Did you learn to do that?"

"No, I've just had a knack for that kind of thing," Kelsie said, "what are you getting at?"

"Since I can remember, there are certain things I have ... just had a knack for," Zander said, "tracking, shooting, knowing when there is more to a situation than what I'm being fed."

"You didn't learn that?" Kelsie asked.

"No, I honed the skills, but it was never taught to me," Zander said, "it's in my blood, as it is in yours."

"What kind of royalty are we?" Kelsie whispered, dread heavy in her eyes.

Zander closed the book showing the ancient cover displaying the words Regia Genus Sicariorum.

Kelsie looked from the cover to Zander, "I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"Depends," he said, "how do you feel about being part of the Royal Family of Assassins?"