Claire knew she had to do something, she just didn't know what. The pain in her leg had faded quickly, almost instantly once Sevik had slithered off back into the shadows. As a result, Claire found herself kicking at the bars with her heels and shouting as loud as she could, the sound echoing off the crumbling walls of the citadel.

Best case scenario would have her miraculously managing to kick one of the bars loose, worst case scenario she might shake off a little rust.

What she really hoped to do was attract attention.

At this point she didn't care who came, be it guards, Jarrah, or Queen Elysia herself, as long as someone came whom she could warn about Sevik.

When the bars gave no indication of giving way, and it became apparent that no one was coming despite her best efforts, Claire gave up. She slumped back against the bars and let out a little scream of frustration.

"Think, Claire, think," she muttered out loud, "there has to be something you can do."

She was still considering her options when a soft swooshing sound rose around her. It grew louder and louder until it was all she could hear. Her first thought was that it was bats, and then she thought maybe some sort of night bird for the sound reminded her of dozens of fluttering wings.

Pulling herself up, Claire tried to make out the source in the darkness. When something swooped in close, she let out a sharp cry of surprise and fell backwards, the cage rocking in response. It was then Claire realized there wasn't any sort of animal, but the cards.

She had forgotten all about them in the chaos that ensued after coming through the shimmer. She watched as the cards zipped about, flickering like fish through pools of silvery moonlight. They were assessing the situation, at least, it seemed that way to Claire.

The cards continued to dip and swoop until one fluttered through the bars and landed face down in front of her. Curious, Claire picked up the card and turned it over. On the other side was a picture of a simple brass key.

"Very clever," she stated in exasperation, looking out towards the cards that were still circling the cage. "A key would be quite-"

A warmth against her palm drew her eyes downward just in time to see the card fade away, the small brass key resting in her open hand.

"Apologies for doubting," Claire muttered.

Curling her fingers over it, she hesitated.

What would a key to that particular lock be doing in a deck of magic cards?

Deciding that the cards themselves had never steered her wrong in the past, Claire reached through the bars and felt around for the lock.

It took a minute or so, and when she did finally find it, she nearly dropped the key in her haste to get it open. Claire managed to get the key into the lock on the second try and it turned with a soft, easy click.

Deciding it was best not to question it, Claire slipped the key into her pocket and pushed the door open.

As she considered her situation, Claire realized she was still suspended roughly seven feet in the air, give or take a little. She supposed it wasn't that far of a drop if she extended herself downward before letting go of the bars.

"You've jumped the cars of a moving train, you've survived torture, and you lived through a hot air balloon crash," Claire muttered, attempting to motivate herself. "You got this."

Taking a deep breath, Claire tried to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach as she climbed through the opening and slowly began to lower herself down.

Closing her eyes, Claire let go and braced herself for impact. The floor was closer than she expected and she landed without a sound on the cool stone. Straightening, she wasted no time in hurrying across the open space in the direction the fae guards had gone earlier.

Stepping beneath a crumbling archway, Claire found herself in a wide stone hallway. She could only see a few feet ahead of her before the hall was consumed by darkness.

As she stood there, teetering on the edge where the soft glow of the moon faded into shadow, all she could think of was the potential for shades to be lurking unseen.

Steeling herself against the deepening gloom, Claire plunged headlong into the black, her feet thudding heavily against the stone as she ran. It matched the rhythm of her heart as it pounded against her ribcage.

I'm coming. She thought as she neared the end of the hall. It branched off in two directions and Claire hesitated. Which way did she go? She could hardly remember which way she had come, if they had even brought her this way to begin with.

A loud shout coming from the left made her decision for her and Claire sprang into action once more. Years of dance lessons made her steps light and soundless when she made and effort, even in the boots.

As she drew closer to the source of the commotion, she could hear people arguing. The voices were drifting into the hall through a door that had been left hanging open.

"You sicken me, Jarrah," a woman snapped. "That you would betray your own people is despicable."

Claire realized quickly that the voice belonged to none other than Queen Elysia herself. A short, barking laugh followed her exclamation and Claire pressed herself against the wall alongside the door. Peering around the edge, she saw Elysia on her knees in the center of the room.

Standing over her, with his back to the door, was Jarrah. In his hand he held a sword, the length of it stained crimson.

Blood.

Elysia did not appear injured, who then?

"I sicken you? You really are delusional, Elysia," Jarrah sneered, pressing the tip of his blade beneath the fae queen's chin and used it to force her to look up at him. "You think because you have that crown on your head that you can do and say what you please without fear of repercussion." He reached out with his free hand and yanked the crown, an ornate band of interwoven leaves made of silver, copper and gold, from her head. He tossed it behind him where it clattered and slid across the floor, stopping just feet from where Claire stood hiding.

"You think that just because you're beautiful, that because men fall at your feet for a simple acknowledgement, that you can do as you please with their affections. You are in for a very rude awakening, sister dear."

Again his hand reached out and he slapped her hard across the cheek. Her head snapped to the side and Claire saw a thin line of red forming at the corners of her mouth. The blow did little to dampen the defiance that shone bright in the fae's eyes.

"I am going to make sure your death is a slow one, Jarrah," Elysia hissed. "Slow and painful."

Jarrah chuckled and shook his head. "I've wanted to do that for a very long time," Jarrah smirked. "however, not as much as I've wanted to do this," he lifted his foot and slammed the flat of his heel into her chest. It sent the woman reeling backwards and crashing to the floor, her eyes growing wide in surprise as the air was forced out of her lungs.

As she lay there gasping for breath, her long dark hair spread around her like a cloud, Jarrah stepped closer, raising his sword.

"I was going to keep you alive a little longer," he said, placing his booted foot against her chest in order to keep her pinned to the floor. "force you to watch as I took your crown, as I killed any and all who opposed me, but best of all, as I dismembered Drosselmeyer piece, by piece. Then I decided I didn't want to take any chances. I decided that killing you sooner rather than later was better in the long run."

As he spoke, Claire slipped quietly into the room, being sure to stay close to the wall. Her heart was hammering so violently against her ribcage and she was certain he would hear and turn to discover her there, but he never did.

Elysia noticed, however, and the two locked eyes across the space that separated them. Claire saw a mixture of emotions flood into the fae's eyes -- surprise, relief, and suspicion were the most prominent. Claire watched in silence as Jarrah adjusted his grip on the hilt of the blade, too wrapped up in his monologuing to notice that they were no longer alone.

"I warned you about interfering in the affairs of humans," he continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "I told you that it would end poorly, that you would regret your decision, and, as you are about to discover, I am never wrong."

Claire knew she had to act fast, that she had to do something other than just stand there and watch as Jarrah cut Elysia down. Her eyes swept the room searching for something, anything, to use as a weapon. Several feet to her right, resting upon a stone pillar, Claire spotted a vase filled with lovely pink and white Calla Lilies.

The vase itself was beautifully crafted, its smooth white surface shot through with veins of gold that shimmered in the flickering candle light which illuminating the room. It seemed a shame to break it, but Claire had no other options.

Grasping the vase around the neck, Claire lifted it as quietly as possible and approached Jarrah from behind.

"Good-bye, Ely-"

As Jarrah raised the blade in the air, intending to lay a fatal blow to Elysia, Claire struck him with the vase as hard as she could. It shattered instantly, breaking into hundreds of pieces, while sending water and flowers flying in all directions.

Jarrah spun in surprise and there was a brief moment where Claire thought it might not have been enough. The fae prince stared at her, his eyes bulging, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

A second later his body crumpled to the floor, the blow having rendered him unconscious.

Meanwhile, Elysia had managed to get to her feet, much of the ethereal grace that Claire had witnessed earlier seemed muted somehow, no doubt as a result of recent events.

She watched as Elysia approached Jarrah, studied him for a moment, and then landed a solid kick with her pointed shoes into his ribs. She didn't stop there either. She kicked him a second time, and then a third, before seeming to remember she was not alone and finally regaining her composure.

Claire couldn't really blame her, she would have done the same had she been in the fae's position. Heaving a sigh, and with an obvious reluctance, Elysia knelt beside Jarrah to check his vitals.

"Is he dead?" Claire asked, feeling anxious. Her intention hadn't been to kill him after all, just to stop him from killing Elysia.

"Unfortunately, no," Elysia replied after a moment or two. She looked up at Claire, a scowl forming on her lips. "That vase was one of a kind you know."

"A simple thank you, would suffice," Claire replied, relieved that she hadn't killed him. The fact that Elysia could lecture her about the vase after Claire had risked her own neck had the young woman fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

Jarrah was right about one thing, Elysia had no issues speaking her mind. Despite her comment, Elysia didn't offer any indication of gratitude.

Claire wasn't surprised.

"Jarrah allowed Sevik access to our city," Elysia explained, her voice quiet. Whip-like vines manifested themselves from thin air and proceeded to wind around Jarrah's wrists, binding them behind his back. Another set slithered down to encircle his ankles. Seeming satisfied, Elysia rose and approached Claire. She paused for only a moment, studying her as though wanting to say something, then she stepped past her. She moved over to the place where the crown Jarrah had thrown now rested.

Picking it up off the floor, she returned it to its resting place upon her head. "He was always reckless, desperate to prove himself, but I never thought he was so stupid," she sighed heavily and shook her head. "It's all irrelevant now, but the fact remains that your friends and my people are in grave danger. Sevik won't have come alone, we must hurry if we are to save them."

Claire nodded, the memory of Sevik's threat still fresh in her mind.

The three had come too far, worked too hard, to fail now, and the thought of losing Alek again was more than Claire could bare.

Elysia motioned for Claire to follow as she moved out of the room and into the hallway beyond. The two hurried through the darkness, the only sounds the whisper of their steps against the stone floor.