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It took some convincing, reassurances, and involved a solid hour of debating, but by that afternoon Daniel found himself pushing a cart filled with pastries alongside five other bakers and their assistants. They rounded a corner and had to stand in line while royal guards glanced at their badges and carts.
Daniel focused on the castle ahead, just across a long platform that in any other setting would have served as the drawbridge, only there was no moat. No chains either, or portcullis for that matter, or wood planking, just a long expanse of paved walkway with a high solid fence on either side and armed guards at each end.
He waited his turn, noting how the security check so far hadn't included peering into the storage section beneath the pastries on each cart. While the others contained more pastries and other necessities the bakers would need to properly prepare their treats, Daniel's was smuggling Ian, the only member of their party the guards would recognize on sight.
When his turn came, he adopted the same awed expression of nerves and excitement of the other bakers, mumbling something about his first time inside the castle and hoping he could see the king before the night was over.
The tactic worked, annoying the guard enough to make him wave them all along and away so he and his partner could go back to their debate about which weapon was smarter to carry on a duck hunt.
Matthew, Bert's eldest, was pushing a cart that held his real assistant, so they could all exit the palace that evening without raising any suspicions. He waved Daniel on and led the way up the path the other bakers were taking, toward the main gate, then off to the left to wind around the side of the massive castle's outer wall to a smaller door where cook staff came and went in a hurried bustle of activity.
Daniel barely had time to take it all in before he was shown the area of kitchen reserved for the visiting bakers and their staff. Once around the side of a large boiler, both Ian and Mathew's assistant extricated themselves from the carts.
"All right, you'll all be in the clear now, in case anything happens," Ian said as Daniel removed his baker's coat and gave it back to the assistant.
"Just make sure nothing happens," Mathew said as he pushed his carts back around the boiler.
Daniel gave a nod of thanks, then followed Ian as they hurried through a side door into an empty service hallway.
"And the plan now is?"
Ian pointed down the hallway. "The plan is, we sneak into the dungeon, go up the staircase to the king's secret chamber, and find that key."
"Sneak into the dungeon?" Daniel raised an eyebrow.
Ian shrugged and grinned. "Not many people ever sneak in to a dungeon."
"And if the key isn't there?"
"We keep looking."
Ian started down the hallway and Daniel could do nothing other than follow. He had his doubts it could be this easy. After stepping through his uncle's cellar door into traffic, battling his own confusion, worms big enough to swallow a bus, a tree that chases and consumes anything warm blooded, caves where a man could lose his mind in less than a minute of exposure -- the idea of walking up a staircase into a secret room and finding a key just sitting there was a serious let-down.
Halfway down the corridor they heard footsteps and had to quickly duck behind a large tapestry hanging on the wall.
Daniel held his breath, waiting for whoever was passing by to notice the thick fabric had grown two pairs of feet, but the footsteps approached and faded without missing a beat. They waited a few more seconds, then continued on their way.
At the end of the hall they took a left, and the scenery began to improve. Plain cement walls with stark red tapestry panels became carved grey marble, with portraits and ornate brass sconces that held glowing fire crystals. Daniel glanced at a few name plates under the paintings they were passing, noting the titles of long-dead members of the royal court. They were all painted at approximately the same age-range, but it was impossible to tell as the plates simply listed their name, rank, and the words Long Dead underneath.
"Not too terribly sentimental, this royalty," he remarked.
"Here we go." Ian stopped next to a curving staircase. "This will take us down to the service entrance. There's only one guard there between meal deliveries. If he doesn't recognize me, we'll be fine."
"If he does?" Daniel followed Ian as he started down the steps. "Disabling a guard is going to limit our time being undiscovered."
"I know. We'll just have to hope he's new."
The stairs wound down several floors, lit only sparsely by the occasional sconce and fire crystal along the way. Underneath each light a sign warned the visitor they were entering a restricted section housing dangerous criminals, and weapons would be confiscated.
Daniel touched the weapon at his hip and wondered how they were going to justify their visit, even if the guard didn’t recognize Ian.
Before he could ask, they'd reached the bottom of the staircase and the door leading to the service entrance of the castle's dungeon. Ian held a finger to his lips and peered through the small window set high in the door.
"He's not there," he said as he turned back. "Probably doing rounds, which is a bonus for us if I can get this door open."
"And how do you--" Daniel stopped when he saw Ian pull a pair of long metal rods from an inside coat pocket. "Ah, not your first time?"
Ian shrugged. "Not the first, no." He worked the picks for a few seconds, then tried the knob when he was rewarded with a loud clank.
Daniel half expected hinges to creak with a dramatic flair, but the door opened quietly and willingly to a well lit guard house and an open walkway beyond.
He followed Ian through the door, then carefully closed it behind them. "This isn't what I was expecting."
The dungeon wasn't cast in orange lighting from burning fires and smoldering branding irons, and there wasn't a single serf hanging by his wrists from any of the walls he could see. Instead, he found rows and rows of dark walkways set between solid brass boxes, approximately eight by eight. Each cell sported a single door with no window, and a mail-sized slot for food delivery.
Underneath each slot was a nameplate, and several of the cells had open doors. Ian pointed to one with a proud grin.
"This'll be mine, if Stefan gets his way."
Daniel saw the name plate. Ian Foster, it read, leading to a cell that was empty and waiting.
"He must be confident he'll have you in here some day."
"Well if Martha and Bert are right about his speech tonight, maybe he will."
They continued down a walkway as quickly as they could, keeping an eye out for the patrolling guard, then ducked into an alcove and found the staircase that would lead up to the king's secret chamber.
Daniel's legs remembered yesterday's massive wall-climb and protested, but there were no doorways or openings along the climb, so they were able to stop periodically and catch their breath.
This time, instead of climbing back up to the floor where they'd started, they were traveling to the uppermost levels of the castle.
"This speech tonight," Daniel said as they rested on the stairs. "Does the royal court have any say in what the king decides?"
Ian shrugged. "Some, but it depends on the king at the time. In the past, they held a lot of sway and made decisions about taxes and laws, with the king or queen having the final say. With Stefan, they've been pushed into the background to the point of being basically useless. That's what prompted so many of them to fund our underground movement."
"So your king has become, basically, a dictator. And lacking a coup, he'll be free to do anything he wants?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
"And he doesn't fear an uprising?" Daniel asked. "I mean, in Otherworld, in the past, there have been uprisings that brought down royal families. In fact, there aren't very many places now where royalty actually make all the laws and decisions."
"I don't think Stefan fears one because there's never been one before. Ever. The people would have to be pushed pretty far before that would happen, and they've never experienced a dictatorship harsh enough. Not yet, anyway." He sighed and pushed away from the wall, continuing their climb. "Maybe now's the time. Maybe Stefan will be the king to spur them into action."
By the time they reached the door to the king's secret chamber, Daniel's legs were wet noodles. Ian paused to listen through the door, then opened it slowly and glanced inside before going in.
They found themselves in a room Daniel guessed to be about twelve foot square, with a rack of weapons along one wall, a safe in the corner, and a desk with two chairs facing and one behind.
Daniel checked the desk while Ian stood at the door leading to the king's bedchamber, listening for any unwanted surprises.
"Nothing," he said after checking the drawers three times. He felt around the desk's carved wooden top for a secret panel or hidden notch, but found neither. "Maybe it's not in here."
They both looked at the safe.
"Well, it makes more sense," Daniel offered with a shrug.
Ian examined the door to the small reinforced brass box. "I can't pick this, it's a combination. We'd be here for days trying to crack it."
Daniel let out an exasperated sigh. "Well that's it, then, isn't it?" He turned and leaned against the heavy desk. "Unless we can find a way to --"
He blinked.
Ian stood. "Find a way to what?"
It couldn't possibly be what he thought it was, but there it sat, plain as day and as obvious as an elephant with a tutu.
He pointed, then let out a short laugh. "The key."
It was in the door's keyhole, unseen as they stepped through from the staircase and unnoticed as they'd searched the room.
Ian reached out and pulled the key from the lock, looked it over, then handed it to Daniel. "That's the key? You're sure?"
Daniel looked at it, stunned. It was the exact duplicate of the key from his uncle's set. Short, copper in color, with a single tooth. He pushed on it with a finger, as if it were made of vapor and would suddenly vanish.
Only it didn't vanish. It just glistened back at him, as solid and real as anything.
He swallowed, then looked up at Ian. "This is it, then? I mean, really it?"
"I guess so," Ian shrugged. "If Murphy wasn't shittin' me, this is your way out of Ether. If he was right, you open that door and you're back home. If I was right, you open that door and you're on the stairs we just climbed up."
"And if I'm right, I open that door and wake up from all of this." He looked at the key again, unsure what he should do next and uncertain what he wanted to happen. "Wait, how are you going to get out of the castle?"
"Don't worry about me," Ian said as he walked back to the door that would lead into the king's private bed chamber. "I want to hear this speech first. If changes are coming, Murphy won't have a way of finding out until it's too late." He turned back, then reached out a hand. "Listen, if it's for real, and you go through that door and vanish, I just wanna say it's been nice knowing you."
Numbly, Daniel shook the offered hand and nodded. "It's been an honor," he said. "But, listen, I can't let you take all this risk then leave you in danger." He glanced at the key in his hand. "You could come with me, get out of the castle that way."
Ian laughed shortly. "Back to the stairs?" He winked, then gave Daniel's arm a pat. "No, Otherworld's not for me. I'll find a way out, I always do."
He turned back to the door, listened for a moment, then slowly opened it and stepped into the bedchamber.
"Wait," Daniel said as he hurried forward. "I've been here over a week, what's a few more hours?" He slipped the key into the front pocket of his pants and walked into the bedchamber, carefully closing the door to the secret chamber behind him. "I'm curious about this king of yours."
"I thought you were anxious to 'wake up'," Ian remarked.
Daniel waved a hand dismissively. "There's time for that. Besides, Murphy said the door doesn't matter, right? Just the key. So I go with you for a bit, I can always leave through another door."
Ian nodded slowly, then gave a shrug. "Fair enough," he said. "I just want to see if I can hear his speech. We don't have to get too close."
Daniel agreed, then followed Ian through the door and into the empty bedchamber. It was as opulent as any he'd seen in movies, with a massive bed against the far wall, elaborately decorated chairs and dressers, and heavy curtains and tapestries covering up what looked to be gilded gold walls.
It seemed ridiculous compared to the modern style of the building itself, but it did keep in the assumptions Daniel had originally made.
From that room, they stepped into a hallway, empty except for several portraits on the walls and a lit sconce every few feet.
"No guards?" Daniel asked as they quietly moved down the corridor.
"No need, if the king's in his offices, or greeting his guests." Ian paused at a corner and carefully checked for company. "He'll be surrounded, as well as the members of the royal court, but I have no interest in getting very close."
"Good," he whispered. "I'm curious, not stupid."
They took another hallway to the other side of the castle, then found a staircase leading down two levels. From there, they walked out to a balcony area overlooking a massive room below. Ian ducked low and Daniel followed suit, shuffling up to the edge of the marbled banister where they could look down on the gathering without being noticed.
Daniel situated his face between two large railing stones for a good view of the royal throne and elaborately dressed people below.
A man he had to assume was King Stefan stood a few feet in front of the single throne, dressed in a gilded jacket trimmed with shimmering black fur over a black shirt draped in medals and flashing gems. On his head rested a modest-sized crown, but from the light glinting off the surface it appeared to be made entirely of gems.
Milling about the guests were men wearing matching jackets, red in color with a white fur trim, that Daniel took for the members of Ether's royal court. The others wandered about, dressed in their most elaborate best while holding glasses of wine and sampling the many pastries Mathew and the other bakers were bustling out from a side door.
Around the room stood armed guards, hands on the hilts of their rifles and eyes constantly scanning the crowds. Daniel estimated at least three guards for every guest.
"Looks like he's expecting trouble, with that many armed guards."
Ian nodded. "There shouldn't be so many. Something's definitely up." He turned slightly to face Daniel, keeping his voice low. "With this many guards, he's either expecting the royal court to object in majority to whatever he's about to announce, or the people. Most of them are his supporters, but I've counted at least twenty who openly oppose some of his policies. He's either invited them here for appearances, or he plans for none of them to leave."
"Are these all of the military here in Ether? These guards?"
Ian shook his head and opened his mouth to answer, then suddenly grabbed Daniel by the arm and launched to his feet. "Guards! Run!"
"Halt!"
Daniel ran, following Ian straight across the open section of balcony and into a side corridor, not even turning to look at the men chasing after them.
"Get to a door and use the key!" Ian commanded. He shoved Daniel ahead of him and drew his weapon. "Hurry! I'll be right behind you!"
Daniel continued running as he pulled the key from his pocket, searching the corridor for a door. All he could find were alcoves and tapestries.
"Hurry!" Ian called.
He heard gunfire from behind, then the whistling of solid matter ripping through air as a short, sharp arrow slammed into the wall beside him.
"Dammit, where's a door?" Daniel took a corner, then spotted one at the far end.
Ian was right behind him, firing back around the corner as they hurried toward the door. "Get it open!"
Daniel reached the door, fumbling with the key a moment before he finally got it into the lock above the knob.
He heard shouts, and more gunfire as he turned the key.
"I've got it!"
Something shoved him from behind and he stumbled through the opening. The key wrenched from his fingers and he fell, not to the marbled floor, but further down, hitting wooden steps and tumbling over once before coming to a hard landing in a pile of dust.
Then the darkness took hold.
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