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Jenever sighed, a peculiar mix of sick fury, regret and hatred on her face. She sat down heavily on a haybale. "Simon's cloak," she murmured then... "So she had a plan all along, and a good one at that. There were many ways this might have been avoided. But I could not be trusted," she finished, biting of her words as if they tasted bitter.

Tobias stepped back, his breathing still uneven, and he set himself upon a roughly searched bale. He looked up at Simon, a shaky half smile on his face.

"Well, well... Welcome to our lovely abode. You'll excuse me if I don't show you around. The presentation is a bit lacking without sweeping gestures."

Morgan's voice, when he next spoke, was harsh - overly-controlled, most likely - and almost painful to hear. "Indeed. Welcome, Simon. Now perhaps you will understand my earlier statements."

"Your repeated accusations of insanity have yet to change your situation any, Master Morgan," he replied with a little sigh, burrowing a small seat for himself into a bale of hay somewhat awkwardly in his restrained position. With some difficulty, Simon nestled back into the broken bale, curling up as best he could and pulling his mantle around himself like a blanket. Apparently, he was settling in for the long haul. "I imagine you would be hoping for somewhat more than the moral high ground," he added succinctly, twisting himself to settle in a little more comfortably.

Softly snoring, Lazarus missed out on the troubling sight of Opal being sealed in her tomb. He lay quietly on his side, oblivious to the rough straws sticking him in his face. He had lost his battle with exhaustion, only having enough energy to manage falling asleep on his good shoulder.

"Opal's trapped in a hole in the floor," Seth replied to Simon. "Who are you to talk of the moral high ground? I'm still trying to decide if you're going to live through the night, considering your part in this."

Simon closed his eyes, having apparently made himself as comfortable as he was going to. "My death will not bring Opal out of the Tomb, Master Seth," he said with equanimity. "But no doubt it will make you feel better, at least momentarily. Perhaps it might give you a measure of control over the situation you find yourself in. In any case, I cannot stop you - my fate is out of my hands now."

Outside the Cage, things were returning, more or less, to normal. Lynx appeared momentarily at a loss for what to do, but the guards were going back to their posts, glancing carefully at the prisoners. In one corner, a brief discussion was eventuating between the former sergeant and his new replacement.

Morgan stalked over to where Simon sat, muscles tense and quivering slightly with suppressed energy, but he stopped just beyond the point where he could actually attack the man. "Honour and morality, sir, are all I have left to me. I have even been divested of the opportunity to speak my opinions, at the risk of losing the ability to speak itself. And while I fear nothing, I would prefer not to lose that ability. You, though, obviously complain about morality for the simple fact that you have - and have never had - any of your own. Enjoy your just desserts. I, at least, can rest somewhat content knowing that my imprisonment is unjust. A minor victory, but one takes what one can find."

Simon opened one eye a crack, a black seam in his pale features. He looked at Morgan's barely controlled tension for a short time, before opening his other eye, apparently ready to converse. "You mistake me, Master Morgan. I do not complain about your morality - rather I applaud it, and your insistence on the moral high ground. I simply imagined that you would have hoped for something more than that."

Morgan turned away as he spoke, but his face for those who could see it was tightly composed - more stone-like than usual, in fact. "I have no hope, sir. I have seen nothing that might lead me to hope. All that is left to me is honour. And, when I die, as I expect will occur fairly soon, the desire to injure or kill as many of those who seek to kill me as I can before I fall."

He chuckled then, a painfully wry sound. "I suppose, given my expectations, that desiring to keep my tongue is a ludicrous concept. Nonetheless, I find that I would prefer to go to my death more or less intact. In any event, the point remains. If you seek hope, seek elsewhere. I am no sneak-thief, to be able to slip from my chains and between bars. Nor am I a great and powerful hero, to slay without effort ten times my number. I am simply a Knight, possessed of skills that have no use in my current situation."

Jenever rose again, languidly. "But I do not have the moral high ground on anybody... and besides, I must congratulate you on one thing, Simon. I don't think the Rulers of Karadon ever liked each other much, but now there will be even less trust between them, giving them each something much more dangerous to think about than we."

She shook her head. "I cannot blame you for your actions in any way, but I wish you had taken Opal and gone long before this."

Simon looked over at her then, a strange light coming into his eyes and the faintest of smiles creasing his lips. "Indeed, Jenever. And where do you imagine I - we - would have gone?"

"You had a plantaxy," Seth said, "even if you did lie about it. You could have gone anywhere. Anywhere but this damned place." Seth crossed over to Lazarus and shook him. "Lazarus...wake up. It's important."

Lazarus let out a rather pitiful moan, but kept his eyes solidly closed.

"You are incorrect, Master Seth," Simon said softly, absently touching the torn gap in his shirt at the mention of the Plantaxy. "I could have done nothing. I did not lie when I said I am not like yourselves," he continued, his expression going blank again. "You are wielders of Plantaxy - granted powers and abilities far beyond the norm, given control over all manner of matter, including the nature of reality you know as Shadow. I have none of these abilities - the Plantaxy you saw does not work, at least not in my hands. You saw it - did it even look like the ones you use?"

Haakon snorted. "I've only ever seen two of the damned things. How should I know what all the rest look like? For that matter, how should you? And if you couldn't use it, why were you wearing it?"

Simon shook his head. "I am afraid I cannot help you, as you can see."

"Wrong again, Simon," Haakon said quietly. "You may not have any powers, though I'm still not sure I believe that. But what you do have is knowledge -- knowledge of the guards, the layout of this place, where we might find weak points in the defenses, what divisions we might exploit between your Lady and the Hunter. It's like I told you outside -- you're as dead as we are, unless we can get out of here now.

"A few minutes ago, you actually decided to act rather than just watching what happened. That's what life is about. It's not like we'll be any deader if we're killed trying to escape rather than executed after staying meekly in our cage. If you want to have a life, it's time to go and get it. Do you understand me?"

"Fardles, Seth! I really need some sleep," Lazarus said, without moving or opening his eyes. "My shoulder is killing me and I'm so tired from... everything... that I can hardly stand. What's so important? Are they letting us go?" He managed a small smile.

Seth closed his eyes a long moment after 'Fardles' was said, but finally opened them and stared down to Lazarus.

Lazarus flinched, when he realized what he had said, and opened his eyes during the pause. His look was somewhat soft, comforting, apologetic.

"Much worse," Seth said. "The Hunter was here. Opal's been entombed in a space under the floor, here, for picking her manacles and for standing up to him. Oh, and the piece de resistance...Simon's had a plantaxy stripped from him and has been thrown into our cage." With that, he stood and looked over at the new prisoner.

With a visible effort, Lazarus sat up and grimaced at the discomfort he felt. He looked bad, and felt bad. He cast his eyes about the chamber, getting a feel of where everyone was.

Seth continued, "So, then, you can explain what that stone did for you, if it didn't let you walk in Shadow. While you're at it, you can explain why you should live, when Opal is trapped in the floor and the woman I love is dead, her blood on your Masters' hands. Forget about personal satisfaction. Tell me what use you are. Otherwise, you're just a plant, a spy in our midst."

Lazarus finally shifted his (now icy) gaze to Simon, waiting for his reaction. ~Poor bastard~ he thought.

While they were speaking, Lynx was moving closer to the Cage. She signalled, trying to get Jenever's attention.

"Lady ... please!" she said softly.

Dot looked at Morgan, studying him, before whispering, "if our hands were free, could we escape?" Her eyes were pleading, her desire not to die combating her quiet nature. So far survival was winning.

Morgan shrugged, smiling softly, before whispering back. "It would help. At the least, it would allow a more even fight."

Dot nodded and studied a nearby hay bale, her mind weaving itself through a few strands of the hay. "Morgan? Would you be so kind as to look over there?" She indicated away from her.

When Morgan had complied, Dot turned and collected the straws carefully, her exact mind not allowing a mistake. She then turned her back to Morgan, and felt toward his lock, her hands making gentle contact with his before finding her target. And then she began to work.

Morgan watched the guards, face still and composed, as he listened to the others bandy words with Simon. For his part, he held his eyes aloof from any contact, as if a statue in truth, existing only to be seen.

Morgan might have appeared loftily unaware - but the guards seemed somewhat intrigued by the sight of Dot and him, back to back ... and two moved closer, sharing some low-voiced ribald comment (and a snigger).

Morgan met the eyes of the two with a brief, cold smile, and held their eyes, obviously unashamed and unconcerned with their comments.

Simon gave a little sigh, a strangely humanistic expression at odds with the unsympathetic mask that fell back across his face now. "Masters," he said at length, sounding a little tired, "If I had a 'use', as you put it, surely I would have told you by now. I meant what I said - I always do. I have no such abilities as yours, not with Plantaxy or otherwise. The stone did nothing, for me or with me - it was a gift from the Lady for doubtless her own amusement, and to not wear it would have been to evoke her displeasure."

"Nor, in fact, can I tell you anything of use," he continued matter- of-factly, shrugging slightly. "I know the way from here to the Great Hall, and from there to my room and the Lady's suite. I have not been outside this castle since I was brought here. The guards, as you can plainly see, are the Hunter's men; I know nothing of them, nor do I have any authority over them. The 'authority' you saw earlier was nothing more than their instinctive obedience to the spoken word of command - I act as if I am in charge, and I am suddenly invested with whatever authority they themselves choose to give me. Surely those of you with a military background or knowledge of the dramatic arts must be aware of that. I do not even know the Lords of Karadon; I have never spoken to the Hunter, and the only words he has spoken to me were the ones you just saw. Even as little as you claim you know, you know him far better than I."

"I am afraid, Master Seth, that I do not see the parallel between Mistress Opal's imprisonment and the death of your lady love and my presence here," Simon added, meeting Seth's gaze blithely. "But it is irrelevant. My fate is out of my hands now. Either the Lady will see fit to have me released, or I will leave the Cage when you make your escape attempt, as you inevitably will. Failing that, you will kill me here - as I have said, I cannot stop you, not given that you are a man who can make threats against Karadon itself. Think of me as a spy if you will; I certainly could be, and such a frame of mind may well stand you in good stead in the future. I ask only," he concluded, nodding his head over at Lynx, who was still trying to get Jenever's attention, "that you wait until Lynx has gone. She would be distressed to see it, and that would not be fair to her."

"Oh, you're not dead yet," Seth replied to Simon. "Unless your Lady proves otherwise, you're valuable to her. I would keep you around for no other reason than that... at least for now. I would not be laying any odds on her just ordering you out of here, however." Seth made a face. "It's like some twisted game of barley-break."

"Seth..." Lazarus looked like he was about to fall over. "Seth... come here, now." He said in a low, soft voice. His face projected the urgency that his voice did not.

Seth hurried over the best he could, then leaned in close. "What's wrong?" he asked in a low voice.

Lazarus put his mouth to Seth's ear and whispered...

Tobias narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly at Morgan, then shook his head, sinking into the hay, eyes half-closed. He began to speak, and it became clear he was addressing Simon.

"I doubt you'll be forgiven, unless you truly are a spy... Or, in fact, you've been much more tolerant than I when it comes to employee benefits. I have conniptions if I don't get profit sharing and a window office...

"Since we're stuck with you, you might as well tell us something about yourself... No need to go into your jewelry habit."

The young man blinks, surprised, apparently taken aback by the unexpected question. "Something... about myself?" He considers for a time, leaning back in the bale of hay and looking at the rocky roof, a striped pattern cut into it by the shadows of the bars. "I can't imagine what you might want to know," he continued almost wistfully, though he was still considering the question. "I was raised alone, in a forest far from here, by an old man and woman whose names I never knew - they were always just that to me, the Old Man and the Old Woman. After I ran away, I lived by myself for a time, finding what I could to eat and avoiding people until the Lady's servants found me. And when she released me from my imprisonment, she brought me here to Karadon." He looked Tobias full in the eyes, his face serene again. "That was no more than two weeks ago or so. There's little more I've done since. And the rest you know, I imagine."

"You imagine?" said Tobias languidly, shifting slightly to get more hay under his back. "You imagine incorrectly... I can't imagine that you were let in simply because the Lady has a soft spot for boys who refer to things using Archetypes... Though I'm certain it helped, given their appellations. What attracted her to you... And what did you do for her?"

"Well..." Simon's voice trailed off, and his face suddenly gave a slight twitch, a spark of life that was so out of character that it seemed for a moment that his face might crack. But it was gone after a moment, and the bland mask that had confronted them all day was back. "I do not know what the Lady saw in me. Presumably naivete; her motives and reasoning are almost unfathomable to her servants. Ask Lynx or Opal if you do not believe me." He lifted his head slightly from the hay, and paused, looking downwards as if debating whether to continue. "And as for what I do for the Lady - well..." Simon took a slight breath. "Well, I kill people. Not just anyone, but - certain people. People like yourselves."

"Really..." drolled Tobias, his eyes slits of blue and lashes. "How nice. You mean others with the little bits of jewelry? I didn't know there were others... Why, did you hear that, everyone? This is just a routine slaughtering... I feel so... mundane now.

"Or wait... does she just have a distaste for accountants? I know I would, if I had to employ this many guards to be able to sleep at night... What's the benefits package here? Perhaps I don't want to escape... Do you have dental?"

Simon gave a little frown. "I am not certain what you mean..." he mused hesitantly. "If you wish to serve the Lords of Karadon, Master Tobias, then you could just ask to. The Hunter and the Lord of Shadows hate the wielders of Plantaxy, but the Lady may well be amenable. Perhaps you should ask."

"Damn..." Tobias clucked his tongue. "And here I left all my resumes in the pack the confiscated... Well, maybe The Lady has run across them while rummaging through my boxers."

He caught the eye of Seth, barely rising an eyebrow, but he remained recumbent for the moment.

"Whoa..." Jenever snapped, from where she had been sitting, listening for other conversations even in the midst of her own... "Aren't we being killed for the death of the Lord of Shadows? And yet you speak of him in the present tense. That is quite...unfortunate."

Dot's hands worked carefully, the tumblers shifting under her masterful ministrations. Her brow beaded with sweat, and water condensed on her hands from the melting ice on the manacles. The hay absorbed some of the water, becoming spongy as Dot worried away at the lock, trying to be more delicate, but hastening. Her face was a template of stress, and she felt like screaming.

Lazarus pulled away from Seth, their whispered conversation over. He glanced wearily around the cage. "Haakon, a word, if you have the time?" He managed a smile.

"I find my schedule open at the moment," Haakon replied wryly, scooting over to make room for Lazarus to sit beside him against one of the hay bales.

Lazarus sat close and began to speak to Haakon in hushed tones...

Similarly, Seth moved over to where Tobias and Jenever were standing. "Tobias, Jenever, a word with you, please?" He asked softly. He sat close by, against one of the hay bales.

Jenever moved casually to a place in the Cage near to Lynx. "What is it, child," she said, not unkindly.

Lynx was watching her, with those great purple eyes.

"You said ... you knew me," she said softly. "But ... I don't understand how you could. I have never left Karadon - and they said you were brought here from far away!"

"I am beginning to doubt that the woman I knew was you... Although it is still possible. I met her in a place called Sudgia, and she resembled you exactly, but her manner was somewhat different. And she could use plantaxy." Jenever paused. "But why would such a thing matter to you?"

At the word 'plantaxy' Lynx suddenly shrank back, her hand lifing to her throat. Over Jenever's shoulder, she was watching Simon.

"Plantaxy is feared here, Jenever," Simon cut in, by way of explanation. "The powers people like yourselves wield frighten Lynx even more than they do me." He shifted slightly uncomfortably in the bale of hay, rolling slightly such that he fixed the amazon with his dark gaze, switching it back and forth between her and Lynx. "Besides," he added, nodding his head towards Seth, "I believe Master Seth wishes to speak with you in private, such that I will not hear. It may be important." He gave a slow blink, and inclined his head, indicating that Lynx should come over to his side of the Cage.

Jenever chuckled. Her laughter was a rich, throaty sound, almost mocking. "All right, Simon," she said, "I'll leave the child alone... if she has said all that she needed to say to me." She paused, and began to move toward Seth and Tobias, murmuring over her shoulder, "but I misdoubt your explanation of her reactions, my dear. I misdoubt them very much."

As Jenever moved to speak with Seth, Lynx swallowed, almost audibly. She was watching Simon now with something of the fascination of a small mouse before a cobra. Slowly, one foot slid forward over the stones. A step, as though drawn towards him against her her will. And then another.

She gave a little shake to her head ... and her lips parted slightly as though in a negative.

But still she approached.

"Lynx," he said quietly, with the slightest of smiles, as she got closer, "there is danger here. Go to my chamber; you will be safer there. I do not think you can help here anyway." Simon blinked slowly, his mask softening a little. "And thank you."

She swallowed again, and nodded, letting her hand fall from her throat as she did so.

Anyone who was close enough to see, would notice that her arms were marked with a myriad thin white lines, as though her soft skin had been cut and healed, over and over and over again.

The hay became too limp to work with, and she carefully extracted them from the lock. The manacles still held. Dot whimpered as she slouched forward. Her nature required her to find out if it was worth a second endeavour. It appeared that the moisture had faded. She moved and gathered fresh straw. Her focus was equally split between the strength of the straw and the intricacies of the lock, which she tackled once more. Her earlier anxiety quelled by determination.

Morgan continued to sit still, any impatience he might be feeling hidden. This did not stop his eyes wandering the cage, watching the guards and his fellow prisoners alike. His attention moved to where the new sergeant and the old one stood talking, and he watched, trying to determine what they discussed.

It seemed as though they were in a heated discussion about something ... Several times the old Sergeant pointed to the floor where Opal had been entombed. It seemed as though he were asking (or perhaps demanding) something that the other guard - the Corporal - was strenuously resisting. Despite Simon's presence in the Cage, it did not seem as though the old ranks had been fully re-instated.

Both suddenly looked up at the Cage - specifically at where Lazarus and Haakon were talking. Then the Sergeant put an arm around the Corporal's shoulder and drew him away. The argument looked to be continuing ...

Everyone was becoming aware of it. The two guards who had been watching Dot and Morgan were now staring at the Sergeant and Corporal, perplexed and wary ...

And while they were doing so, Dot felt rather than heard the tiny CLICK! of the lock of Morgan's manacles.

The the Sergeant suddenly threw his hands in the air and stormed from the cavern. The erstwhile Corporal, pale-faced, watched him go.

Dot whispered to Morgan "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone else." She hoped he would take it in the ~Don't reveal that you're free~ way that she meant. She gave him a moment and then continued, "perhaps you could make plans for later?"

His response gave her comfort, and she looked over at Tobias. Haakon held the attention of others, and it wouldn't do to be distracting. She carefully moved toward Tobias and asked if he wouldn't mind sitting with her, back to back on a hay bale.

Lazarus stood up from sitting with Haakon, an odd look upon his face. He glanced about the cage, as if looking for someone else to speak with...

Morgan, his best poker-face on, merely continued watching the sergeants, until the one left. He stayed where he was, calmly kneeling, as if in prayer or vigil. In that act, the armour he wasn't wearing became obvious by its absence, his body set as it should have been were the armour still part of him. Without the armour, he had to be uncomfortable, but if so, he did not show it.

Seth stood, with some difficulty, from his conversation and stretched; he then moved to sit close to the cage's gate. He leaned against the bars, and took deep slow breaths, his eyes closing.

"Simon," Lazarus said softly, "a word please, if you can spare a moment."

"As you like," came the simple reply, but Simon never took his dark eyes from Lynx, staring at her hard. "But if you wish to speak to me, I must ask that you join me over here." He nodded his head towards the rocky wall of the chamber. "Lynx," he continued more softly, "go and wait there, then. Stay out of the way. Please. We will talk more about this - shortly."

Lynx nodded slowly, then turned and made her way to the wall Simon had indicate, leaving him with Lazarus. She turned to look again at Jenever, half-wistfully, as she dispappeared into the great shadows at the base of the wall. Such were the irregularities of the cavern that she could barely be seen, unless one had eyes attuned to darkness.

His footsteps heavy and tired, Lazarus went to stand next to Simon. With a tilt of his head, he leaned close and began to speak in hushed tones.

Jenever watched after the girl as she exited, then moved to sit next to Tobias, both for his company, which she found strangely comforting, and to shield Dot from watchful eyes. "Something about that woman," she said softly to him. "I don't think she is Anaka... she's... broken, somehow, like she's been hurt repeatedly, and she isn't as frightened of me as she is of..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "Maybe she could be useful. I'm beginning to think all my cards are quite played out."

"She could be a twin," said Tobias mildly, an almost fond smile coming to his face. "I've known more than a few... Or..." The smile faded. "Jen, did they have 'genetics' back where you came from?"

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