Rachel Andric and Final Death

Chapter 16: Something of a Plan

His chest ached. It felt stiff and sticky at the same time, which was not a pleasant feeling. He slowly opened his eyes, looking straight into the face of Morgana. Will sat up straight, his breath catching at his throat in panic. "You!" he cried, jerking away. He had a vague memory of her stabbing him in the chest with a knife—not a pleasant one.

"Oh, good. You're awake," Morgana said, ignoring Will's surprise. She stood up, her long dress swishing around her. She looked at him, then grimaced. "You look terrible."

"You killed me!" Will exclaimed.

"Nonsense," Morgana answered. "I simply stabbed you in the heart. There's a difference, dear."

"Not... normally," Will said, beginning to feel ill. He stared at her, utterly bemused. "What did you do to me?"

"I told you. I stabbed you in the heart," she said again.

"I don't understand."

Morgana smiled. "It's not where I stabbed you that enabled you to survive. It's what I stabbed you with," she went on, producing the knife, still slick with Will's blood. "Once Mordred told me Merlin was no longer here, I knew the Editor would trap you all. She needs you, you know. So I decided to 'kill' you. I made this knife quite some time ago, though I never imagined I'd be using it to save someone's life. It cannot kill. No matter where I stab, it will always repair the damage when it comes out. The pain of it going in remains."

"It's a torture knife," Will guessed.

Morgana's smile turned a little guilty—not as guilty as Will thought she should look, given the circumstances. "Yes," she admitted. "It's a torture knife. Of course, you'll probably have a bruise and maybe a little scar, but in the end it's better than falling into the Editor's hands, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Will agreed grudgingly. "But why not just take us out of there? Now they've got Ewan and Guy, unless you killed them too."

"No, that would have been too obvious," Morgana said. "I couldn't suddenly go on a killing spree for no reason. Mordred would have suspected me in an instant. They're in the dungeons. But that is why I stabbed you."

"Where are we?" Will asked, looking around him. They were in some sort of cold and damp room, with stone walls damp with moisture. A staircase led up and out of the room.

"Well, this is a connection to the cells," Morgana said. "It seemed to be the easiest place to stage a prison break, at least at the time."

Will looked down, finding himself on a stone table. It was a good thing he hadn't gone any further backwards, or he would have fallen off. Then he realized the truth. "This is where they put the corpses!"

"Of course," Morgana said. "You were a corpse. Or, they thought you were."

Will hadn't really needed that reminder. He slid off the table, eyeing his dark blood on his shirt. "Why are you here?"

"Because I'm going to help you, silly. I thought we'd already gone over this before," Morgana reminded him. "Remember? I was bored. Now. I know my idiotic brother is down here with his unfaithful wife, so it's all a matter of finding them and getting them out."

"Why would you want to free King Arthur?" Will asked. "I thought you hated him."

"My dear, I hate many people," she explained patiently. "Him, you, Mordred... it's all a matter of who I hate more. At the moment, that's Mordred. The pompous fool thinks he can order me around. He'll soon learn otherwise. Now, will you stop interrupting and listen to me?"

Will nodded. "Good," she said. "You need to listen to me carefully, or you're going to die—for real, this time."

Will very much wanted to avoid that, and he adopted an attentive expression, just so she knew he was listening. She raised an eyebrow, smirking, then went on. "Arthur's being kept not far from here in one of the cells with Guinevere. I suppose we can rescue her, too," Morgana added as an afterthought. "Anyway, they're being held there, and Guy and Morpheus are being held in a cell with maximum security. Wouldn't want the Editor's prize prisoners escaping, would we? Especially when she finds out her son is 'dead'."

The very thought of what she would do to Ewan and Guy made Will's mouth go dry. "You had a plan?" he croaked.

"You're a thief," she said irritably. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

It took a moment for the full meaning of Morgana's words to sink in. "Me?" he repeated. "Where will you be?"

"I'm going to be making sure nobody comes down while you're breaking them out," she explained. "Then, after you've gotten Arthur and Guinevere out of the castle through here, Morpheus will take you from this Story and I'll meet up with you."

"Isn't this where they throw the bodies out?" Will said uncertainly.

"Down the moat to the ocean," Morgana said with great pleasure. "But it's really not very hard to escape when you're alive and not stuffed in a bag. It should be easy enough for the five of you to get out through there. And I don't plan on letting Mordred in on the secret that I'm betraying him—not yet. Not until you're out."

"This... could actually work," Will said.

"Of course it can," Morgana answered. "I'm brilliant. Was there ever any doubt?"

Will wisely chose not to answer that. Morgana went up the stairs and turned back to him, tossing him his sword. "You might be needing this," she said. She cocked her head, hesitating. "Best of luck to you."

"And you as well," Will replied, knowing she was in as great—or even greater—danger as he was. She gave him something akin to a smile before disappearing through the doorway.