Kelton moved along the shelves in the fantasy tower. Of all the towers in the Unglang library, this was the most disorganized. There were no topics to categorize or differentiate one book from the next. They weren't even sorted by the characters, as was the King's Truth. It was if they were placed by children who reveled in the confusion it caused.

There were books of song verse next to fantastical stories of evil beasts. Fairy tales lay next to tomes of romance in make-believe houses. No rhyme or reason. Kelton thought it punishment for the mind. It was no wonder that Vasco spent no time trying to make sense of it.

Kelton pulled a large book off one of the shelves and replaced it when he realized it wasn't in a language he understood. The next one seemed to be a tale of adventure, a man finding a cave with a passage that led deep into the earth where demons ruled.

Gossamer would love this place, Kelton thought. Stories upon stories, each book an unknown gift that demanded to be opened. He smiled as he placed the adventure back on the shelf. It would be Gossamer's dreamvine.

Kelton continued down the row trying to find a story that referenced Aragonia, or Karinoka, or the Dark Isle. The princess had said there was mention of it in the tower, yet she hadn't specified where.

Gossamer always insisted that all stories had some foundation in fact. Perhaps Kelton would find something new about Aragonia he didn't know before. He sighed and looked at the sheer number of books he'd have to hunt through. It will take forever, and even then it could be missed.

"You summoned me." The words were spoken not as fact, but an accusation. They burned with coming violence that crawled along Kelton's skin. He had known she'd be angry, though not bordering on fury.

"High Mistress," Kelton said, turning and dropping to his knee. He caught a glimpse of her expression before his eyes found the ground. Her lips were deformed, crinkling her reddened cheeks and adding wrinkles along her forehead. All her beauty was wiped away and replaced with an awful ire.

"Property does not summon a Princess." Alliette enunciated as if she were speaking to an errant child. Behind each word was the promise of retribution.

"My sorrows, high Mistress," Kelton said. He didn't raise his head, knowing to do so without permission would be to risk swift reprisal. He heard her shift and step nearer. Kelton closed his eyes expected to be rapped upon the head.

"I have guards waiting," Alliette said in warning. "Gladfee tells me it is a matter of life. If it is not, I will invoke my right to see you receive another lesson." She was angrier than Kelton could imagine. An exasperated groan escaped her lips, followed by an open-handed swat to the back of Kelton's head. "I was entertaining women of high houses - do you have any idea of the influence I may have lost?" She began pacing while letting Kelton stew on the ground. "You could have requested your master to ask for me. No! You sent a silver to beg for a copper. And then claim lives are at stake to force my hand. I looked the fool."

The rant continued on, and Kelton suffered it all with eyes glued to the floor. There was a threat to sell Kelton to the mines. Another to have him roped to a horse and dragged along the streets like the days of old. He had pushed her beyond her limits. There was no way to know Alliette would see his request as her shame, yet she did come. She could have ignored Gladfee and moved on with her day, perhaps having him brought before all and punished as some houses might. The law gave royals that right.

"Why is that you seek me and not your master?" Alliette asked. There was an implied threat in the tone. A warning that if the answer is not acceptable, a new lesson will commence.

"My masters are governed by laws different than I," Kelton said, only able to see the boots on her feet. "It would cost too many lives."

"And you think me beyond the laws? Property to move about at your will!" Alliette's anger was rising again.

Kelton closed his eyes in preparation for another strike. "Nay, high Mistress." In a way, he was attempting to steer her about, though only a fool would admit it. "It is your thoughtfulness that I beg an audience with."

"And whose lives do you mean to protect?" Alliette demanded.

"Yours, high Mistress. And your brother and father if I am not mistaken," Kelton said. It was met with silence. "And others who you would not deem so worthy," he added. More silence. Alliette's movements slowed, the skirts at her feet stilled. He knew she was struggling to still her anger in light of what was said. It is never easy to quiet a riled beast.

"And...and why do you believe our lives are at risk?"

"A silent war has begun, high Mistress. Battles have ensued, and your family is losing," Kelton explained to the floor.

"What battles?"

"Your cousin, the one taken by the dream vine," Kelton said. Alliette gasped. Kelton braved raising his eyes. Alliette's hand was covering her mouth, and her eyes were wide. "Has there been another, high Mistress?"

"My uncle," Alliette replied with weakness. She sat down or more fell into a chair. She stared into space digesting what Kelton said. He remained on his knee, not wanting to risk her anger returning. It was a long moment before she remembered him and signaled him to rise. A chair was not offered, so Kelton remained standing.

"I will hear what you wish to say," Alliette said. Her composure returned as her mind contemplated Kelton's revelation.

"I have a story, high Mistress," Kelton said with carefulness. "It will remain only that until some...arrangements can be made." Alliette's eyebrows rose. "I do not find others' lives less worthy than your family; thus, I must barter for them."

"But I would see them as less worthy?"

"Aye, high Mistress."

Alliette pursed her lips and folded her arms above her lap. There was anger in the posture, but she forced tolerance into it as well. "Sit, and tell me your story?"

Kelton moved a chair closer to the princess and sat.

"It is a story of lost property, high Mistress. They wandered away from their houses and were struggling to return when they were set upon by an unscrupulous owner. He declared them escaped and threatened them with the King's retrieval if they did not act for him. Fearing the lesson and worse, these property did as demanded." Kelton took a breath and continued when Alliette made no indication she needed clarification.

"These victims were tasked with securing a secret path for the dreamvine. The wicked owner, a demon if there ever was one, violated his promise to the King and profited greatly by its sale. Each shipment more valuable than the last, since supplies were harder to come by. Alas, this demon wanted more. For what is profit compared to power? Ever scheming, this insect of man came upon an idea of conquest without the sword. It required many pieces, the least of which is the secret supply of the vine."

"But come our heroes, the lost property that wanted none of the demon's machinations. By chance, they came upon one who could sneak a word to those at risk. Let them know of what will come, and save the world from an evil downfall."

Kelton waited for a response and received only Alliette's cold stare. So he added the one thing that would stir her to action.

"The lost property were not idle in their secret duty. Though they moved the vine as demanded, they also fought it in the only way they could. They learned to remove the need of the vine from those inflicted. Many have returned from the dream and see real-life once again."

Alliette stood sharp. Anger once again finding her face.

"You will tell me of these escapees, and of this owner who seeks my house! The law is clear on this. To harbor such knowledge is treason, and the penalty is death." Alliette was rigid in her determination. The risk was taken. Now Kelton needed to move pieces around to suit him if it was possible.

"It is true, high Mistress, that a citizen must divulge such information. The second King's dictates were clear and established the laws as you state. They also made it clear that property are not citizens. I believe it was done to forego any attempt by property to claim rights they were not intended to possess." Kelton paused a moment to let that sink in. "Though my master can compel me to tell him what I know, to not do so would bring about a lesson at worst, not death as would be for a traitorous citizen. In this, the law protects one such as me."

"Games," Alliette said, the words sounding like a growl. "You play with words, laugh at our laws, and risk what is mine."

"I assure you, high Mistress, I am not laughing. The rules to the game, as you say, are owned by the kingdom. I only play within their limits."

"That picture mind of yours will be your undoing," Alliette grunted. She turned her back to Kelton, and her posture began to change. He wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. Her shoulders that were hunched in anger began to straighten. Hands unclenched, and her head stood taller on her neck. When she turned back, she was pure-princess again. Propriety had replaced the anger, though some stiffness remained in her face.

"They can cure one afflicted by the vine?" Alliette asked as if it were a question no more important than any other.

"It is how the story goes, high Mistress," Kelton said while nodding. "There are risks, yet it can be done." He was thankful she had begun to analyze the story without wild emotions.

"And you did not tell your master, for he would have had to report the escapees," she stated.

"I believe the story labeled them lost, high Mistress. The villain was clearly the owner, not the wandering property."

"I must speak to another," the Princess said. "You will remain here, in this tower. There will be no wandering or getting lost."

"Aye, high Mistress," Kelton said as he left his chair and took a knee. He could feel that Alliette was still angry for the summons, no matter the cause. A better mood was necessary if she was to query another. Presentation was important.

"Please don't blame Master Zello for my actions, high Mistress," Kelton said. "He cares for you, and I fear I have damaged him in your eyes."

"Does he?" Alliette said, her features softening.

"Aye, he cannot help but smile when he speaks of you. I have seen such a thing before, and I do not wish to be the cause of harm to it."

"Smiles?" Her eyes relaxed, and she caught the corner of her mouth before it curled.

"I have said too much, high Mistress. It is not the place of property to speak of what inundates his master's mind."

Alliette turned quickly, but not before she lost her battle with the curling of her lips. Kelton didn't feel as horrible as he should have for using such a tactic. As Alliette walked away, her stiffness dissipated. Her footsteps were lighter as if she were walking across pillows. Love was a powerful tool when deployed carefully. Gossamer would be proud.

The search for references to Aragonia was going miserably. Kelton moved down another aisle, another set of shelves, another hundred books. Without organization, the search could go on for years and still be a failure.

It was unfortunate that some of the stories held Kelton's interest enough to stall the search even longer. He especially enjoyed the tale of a man who fell upon a group of giant man-like beasts. The one-eyed creatures had a hunger for humans, but a weak intellect. The hero used many devices to trick them and deployed fantastic plans to alter their desires for man-flesh. In the end, he had freed himself from their clutches and left unharmed with the bulk of their gold on his back. Gossamer would love the story. Kelton could picture his father in front of a fire, acting out the tale to a mesmerized audience. There was no doubt he missed the man.

As Kelton moved to the next set of shelves, the silence in the tower became noticeable. He stopped and listened. The towers were always quiet but never silent. Footsteps, page-turning, low conversation, and the ever-present coughing and sneezing that echoed in the multi-storied building during the day.

Kelton moved to the banister and looked down, then up, the center of the tower. There was no one. He waited a moment, and not a soul appeared. It had been a long time since the Princess had ordered him to remain, but there was still light emanating from the windows. Night had yet to fall. It was unfamiliar and odd.

A single cough echoed from the floor below. It was both welcome and surprising. It did not repeat, nor had it begun a return to normality. An intentional clearing of the throat at best.

Kelton descended the staircase in the eerie emptiness. He walked around the center balcony to where he believed the cough had originated. In a reading nook that was surrounded by fire-shielded lamps ensconced in the walls, an old man sat with a book spread open on his lap. His clothes were unremarkable, and there was no collar around his neck. His hair was curly and lacked volume and color, tending toward a washed-out white-gray. The width of his beard ended at his lips and had no supporting mustache. It flowed in waves of tight curls, shaved to cover only the chin. When he glanced up, it was the blue eyes that gave him away. They were older copies of what could be found on the prince and princess.

Kleton dropped to his knee, knowing he was about to address the one man whose words could empty a library without causing an uproar. "High Master," Kelton said, his eyes once again finding the floor.

"And you know me how?" the King asked. There was humor in his words. Perhaps changing Alliette's mood was worth the effort.

"I know no one else who could empty the library, and the prince and princess share many of your features, high Master," Kelton said. "Though I suspect the library isn't as empty as it sounds."

"Ah, not a dull mind at all," the King returned. "My daughter warned me of your cleverness." He added a chuckle before he commanded Kelton to rise, then added, "You may sit."

There was only one chair, and it was filled with a King. Kelton shrugged and sat cross-legged on the floor, a good two arm's length away. Kelton recognized the strong tactic, subordinate on ground and ruler on the throne.

"What am I to do with you?" the King began. There was a brightness in his eyes as if the meeting held some pleasure. "An enemy without an army. An enemy who doesn't wish my throne or the end of my rule. An enemy whose strikes are camouflaged in reason. I have never faced one such as you."

"High Master?"

"In the King's truth," the King winced at the words, "- as it is called - what is the ninth word on page 432?"

Kelton looked back into his mind and sifted through the pages. He counted down the words and sighed. "Treason, high Master." At least the King smiled. A joke with meaning.

"And the enemy has a better mind than I," the King said. Again, there was some humor in the tone. Kelton wasn't sure where he stood. Perhaps a change in subject.

"It is not I who is your enemy, high Master," Kelton said. "It is another I wish to unmask, one who does have sights on your throne."

"Do you know there are men deep in the mines who revere you," the King continued as if Kelton had said nothing. He reached behind and pulled out a muzzle, though it was different than one produced by house Tarvakian. "Kelton's muzzle - Kuzzle, they call it. It matters not that it was made by a house other than your Master's. It comes with stories of bravado unmatched by Kings and Princes." He tossed the mask to Kelton.

"It is better than yours. There is a small reservoir sewn into the bottom, by the chin." The king pointed as if it were still in his hand. Kelton turned the mask about and examined the small pouch-like addition to the inside filter. "It collects the moisture from the breath, allowing a better seal and less adjustment." Kelton smiled. It was something he hadn't thought of, and it pleased him that others were taking it upon their own to improve the design.

"Your sword is sharp," the King continued. "I cannot parry it without seeming the villain. And you know what is worse? It makes me laugh, and desire to see the next battle you declare."

"I...I'm not sure..."

"Here and now, we will speak plainly," the King ordered. "It was you who vaulted house Tarvakian to the forefront. My daughter is enamored with your young master, something I understand you began." Kelton tried to interrupt but ceased when the King's hand directed him to remain silent. "Do not think I find the man unfit; for her smile had been waning for many years, and I enjoy its return. It is by the other manipulations that you have begun to dismantle my kingdom's ways." The King chuckled. "It was brilliant the way you maneuvered my family into accepting a tax on all Kuzzles, whether or not they are made by house Tarvakian. Stabbed us with our own greed. Wonderfully ingenious."

"High Master..."

"And what is the real goal of the Kuzzle?" the King interrupted. By his pause, Kelton knew the King desired an answer.

"To save lives, high Master."

"Nay, that is a grand benefit. Sugar upon the crogert. What is the meat of your Kuzzle?"

Kelton looked at the King's eyes. They were strong and urging. They wanted to see if Kelton would admit the truth or continue to play ignorant. Kelton sighed.

"It will lower the demand for property, and thus the slavers profitability," Kelton admitted with a guilty softness. The real demand was driven by the mines. With less death, less property needed to be purchased. The slowing of slavery.

"Indeed your sword is sharp," the King said. He leaned back in his chair and called out, "Horace!" A guard appeared from behind the shelf to the left. His sword was drawn as if he intended to use it. "Have bread and some of that bluish cheese brought up. We'll need water as well. And clear the tower of everyone, including you." The King flicked his hand as if he were shooing away flies.

"Your Highness?" Horace asked. He looked at Kelton as if he were an assassin ready to strike.

"And do it now," the King commanded, and Horace was off with no further reservations. The King looked at Kelton and pointed toward the right. "Go retrieve a chair. I think we know who is King and who is not."

Kelton chose a straight-back wooden chair. One that was shorter and less voluptuous than the King's seat. It was better than the floor and held no implied insult to the King. Profit for all.

"Already, the great shipping houses have begun to complain," the King said once Kelton was reseated. "That, and I have an equal number of textile houses praising my wisdom in allowing the new market in Kuzzles. There are mining houses that now see the wisdom of it. You have used our 'due-care' laws against us."

"I do not like the idea one owning another, high Master," Kelton said. "It is a dislike shared by most property."

"And yet, you do not run."

"Master Tarvakain has a good mind, high Master. He has shackled me to his house in ways I fear to unlock. It would be worse for many if I were to only please myself."

"He has threatened ones you care about?"