Stirring, Rylie awoke, but she didn’t know why. The moon shone through her window and into the dark room. The curtains flew softly in the wind. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. She didn’t remember opening her window, the weather being too chilly outside for her liking.

  Rylie whipped her head to the side when she heard a loud crash. On her side table, her vase was broken with water leaking over it, and the flowers on the floor. A dark shadow she hadn’t noticed rushed from the corner of the room and vaulted over Rylie’s window sill. She scrambled out of bed but by the time she looked out the window, the figure was already gone.

  Rylie’s heartbeat was in an unusual rhythm. She hurriedly shut the window as a servant came rushing into her room, asking what the matter was.

  “Nothing,” she responded, slowing her breath.

  The servant looked like he doubted her, as he should. He glanced around the room and his eyes landed on the broken vase.

  “Let me clean this up for you, milady,” the servant offered, moving towards the vase.

  “No!” Rylie exclaimed. She rushed forward and ushered the servant out of the room. “I’m quite alright. I broke the vase on purpose. I uh… wanted to try some new form of art.”

  The servant stared skeptically at the noble but could not outright refute what she said. So, he bowed out of Rylie’s room and left.

  Rylie shut the door behind him and leaned on it. Her breath was fast once more and her heartbeat was definitely irregular. Her eyes landed on the vase and she rushed for it, sorting through the broken clay pieces. Pieces poked her but she didn’t stop until she found what she was looking for.

  In her hands was a small scrap of parchment with three words on it. The Black Market.

  Rylie didn’t get much sleep after the intruder debacle. She lay awake, a soft excitement thrumming through her veins. By the time sunlight drifted through her window, she was already dressed and ready to go, a bag of coins at her hip and a traveling coat thrown over her shoulders. She nearly flew down the stairs with how fast her feet were moving, brushing past her mother and stepfather with nothing more than a rushed, “buying dresses”. They didn’t think to stop her.

  Out of the front door and along the path to her gate, she continued to run. Only when she was no longer on her property did Rylie slow to a walk. She did not want to attract attention.

  Rylie tugged her cloak tighter around her shoulders, thankful for the thick wool against the chilly breeze. Rain pattered lightly on the road and she quickly jumped out of the way when an automobile drove by, splattering her skirts with mud. She was too excited to get angry, though.

  Turning through the town decisively, in a way that would cause someone to be dizzy if they didn’t know where they were going, Rylie took a complicated path to the Black Market. She’d only been there thrice and it was there where she’d met her intruder.

  The Black Market was a beautiful, albeit awful, place. It wasn’t underground or in the middle of the woods or anything super secretive. But in a part of town where the apartments and houses were flush against each other, with barely an alleyway between them, tarps and carpets hung from the roofs, creating a shaded area. Only, the alleyways weren’t as small as they seemed. As far as Rylie knew, the apartments and houses surrounding it were built by the founders of the black market. They were wider on top than they were on bottom.

  In the alleyway, merchants with their faces covered in shawls stood at small, wooden shops or sat on blankets with their products spread around them. Rylie quickly wrapped her own shawl around her face. No one showed who they were in case there was a snitch or the city guards found them.

  The people strolled from station to station, mumbling in low tones and haggling about prices that were too high. Rylie pretended to be interested in a particular pendant that an overweight woman was selling, sitting on her dusty blue blanket. The woman eyed Rylie, sucking a cigarette and blowing out a puff of rotten air. The pendant looked like a snake curled into a circle, but at the same time, it looked vaguely like a gear. She fingered it and the copper was smooth and shiny. Her hand was immediately slapped away by the woman who took another deep breath from her cigar.

  “If you’re not going to buy it,” the woman said with a rasp that only came with the decomposition of lungs. “Then keep your bloody paws off it.”

  Suddenly, it seemed as if everyone had gone quiet in the alleyway. Murmuring and haggling stopped and all eyes turned to the entrance of the black market. There was a rhythmic sound that shook the ground, like water pattering but only if the water was hundreds of points. It soon became evident what the sound was and Rylie wasn’t the only one who realized. A few corner merchants threw dust bombs at the ground, a cloud of grey blossoming into the air. The woman in front of Rylie expertly tugged the blanket around the trinkets and threw it through a window a story above where they stood. The merchant rushed through the maze of walls and disappeared into the morning light.

  Rylie watched as others did a similar routine, shoving their products into bags and tucking away their blankets and shops, then scurrying to exits. Others were too slow, though, and so when the city guard came rushing in through the narrow entryway, their rifles pointed at the stragglers, Rylie could see them raising their hands in defeat. She, however, was being led away by a shadowy figure, through narrow alleyways and over fences. She struggled to keep up, tripping on her skirts but managed to keep quiet. Looking behind her, she could see smoke billowing through the air from where the black market lay. The figure tripped a few times on what seemed like the air before pulling Rylie over to, of all things, a wine cellar of some wealthy noble.

  The figure unlocked the lock on the door with clumsy fingers and then shoved it open, beckoning for Rylie to hurry in. She conceded and the figure followed her, locking the door behind them.

  Finally, the figure shook off her hood, revealing thick braided red hair that reached just to her shoulders. Whisps were already falling out, making her look a mess.

  “You’re–clumsy–Sarah,” said Rylie through pants as she put her hands on her knees.

  “I know, I know,” Sarah responded, clutching her chest and trying desperately to take deep breaths. “You’re slow.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  Rylie and Sarah laughed but quickly stopped when they ran out of breath again.

  “Come,” Sarah finally said, waving for Rylie to follow her further into the wine cellar.

  “Does the rebellion meet in a wine cellar?” Rylie asked, slightly disappointed but at the same time, relieved.

  “Of course not. This is just one of the entrances,” Sarah replied. She tripped over something and so Rylie tread carefully only to realize that Sarah had tripped over her own feet. “The real base is further in.”

  “What was with the whole black market thing, then? Why didn’t you just bring me here in the first place?” Rylie asked.

  “You’re too well-known,” Sarah said as she led Rylie past barrels and bottles of wine until they stopped at another door in the back of the cellar. “Plus I’m not actually supposed to tell trial recruits where the base is.”

  “But you just led me here,” Rylie pointed out.

  “Do you remember how to get here?” Rylie thought but got lost in mental twists and turns through the city. “I thought so. We use the black market a lot to take recruits here. Don’t worry, they weren’t real city guards. Err- they are, but they’re being paid off by the resistance so that black market’ll be fine.”

  “That seems like a lot of unnecessary work.”

  “We take security very seriously down here.”

  Sarah fumbled with a key for a whole minute before the door finally unlocked with a small click and the two friends walked through. Rylie’s mouth dropped as she took the place in. “Are we… underground?” She asked.

  “Uh-huh. The noble who lived here built his house over a mine. It’s kind of perfect for a hideout.” Sarah shrugged and Rylie followed her through the tunnels.

  Lights hung on every wall, dousing the tunnels in a melty golden glow. The walls were jagged and uneven but when Rylie reached out to touch it, it felt smooth, as if a million hands before her had done the same.

  Rylie watched as the tunnel led to an open space where dozens of people were milling around, a buzz above their heads from the low talking. Some people, Rylie recognised, while others, she’d never seen before in her life. A couple of rebels were in the corner, working out with weights and laughter, while others set up wooden chairs in rows next to a small stage. There looked to be a family who lived underground in a little wooden house, the kids being softly woken up by their mother.

  “Do people… live down here?” Rylie asked.

  “Sure, some of them. A few people here are known rebels up top so they live down here to stay safe.”

  Rylie nodded along with the explanation as Sarah led her to a large metal door shoved into the wall. Her friend tugged it open, scraping it along the smooth ground until Rylie could finally see what was inside.

  An ovular wooden table lay in the middle of the room along with mismatched chairs strewn around as if a meeting had just ended. At the far corner of the room, a man no younger than twenty sat with another woman around the same age, their heads together in murmurs. They must have heard the door open so Rylie waited quietly for them to finish their conversation.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Finally, the man looked up and smiled and the woman stood up and strode to Rylie with long strides.

  “Nice to meet you. Rylie, right? My name is Josephine, I’m the second in command. And this is Amori, he’s our leader.” Rylie shook the woman’s hand and Josephine led her to the back of the room to sit in a small circle with her and Amori.

  “Hello, Rylie. We’ve heard from Sarah that you would be a good asset to the resistance. Why?” Amori asked. Rylie looked from side to side but couldn’t find Sarah, and the door was closed. She must have already left.

  “Well… I believe we need change and the king is a tyrant… um, I want to make the kingdom better, get rid of the king.”

  Amori’s smile stayed the same but Josephine gave Rylie a pitiful smile. “Rylie,” Amori started. “That’s what everyone who comes around here says. What can you offer to the rebels? What distinguishes you from others? Why should we trust you or let you join?”

  Blood rushed to her face and she had no idea why. It was slightly embarrassing but it was no reason to blush. “I’m a good ally because… well, I’m a noble from a well-known family and I get a lot of information that others don’t get as fast. Kind of like a precursor to what the king says to the general public. And my family is well-respected, so I can get away with things. I can get you information.”

  Amori leaned back in his seat and ran his fingers through his brown hair. “We have lots of nobles already joined into our force, Rylie. It’s not hard to find people who hate the king and are willing to get rid of him. What makes you different, though.”

  Rylie started to sweat. How was she supposed to answer these questions? Josephine, with her pitiful smile and all, said, “Rylie.” Would they stop saying her name so much? Please? “Don’t try to tell us what we want to hear. Don’t tell us that you hate the king and everything he does and that you’re willing to give your life to save this kingdom or that you could be a good spy and give us great information. Tell us instead your drive, your skills, your strengths.”

  Rylie rubbed her hands together and glanced back at Amori, staring into his unchanging face. She took a deep breath and said, “Um. I can act well. My family has a bunch of respect among the bankers which could be helpful. My drive is that I want my little brother and sister to grow up in a world where they can be who they want, do what they want, and be free of the chains that bind us now.”

  “So,” Josephine said, and Rylie felt a layer of pressure fall on the room that made her uncomfortable. “Would you be willing to sacrifice yourself to make the world better for your siblings? You would be willing to never see them again for them to live the life you’ve imagined?”

  Rylie swallowed but nodded nonetheless.

  “You have to understand that joining the rebellion means a lot of things. If you’re ever caught by the king, it’s expected that you say nothing. Otherwise, we have ways of keeping your mouth shut. We can’t have all that we’ve worked for be destroyed by a tactless fool. Does that make sense?”

  She nodded again.

  “And do you understand that at any taste of deception from you, you will no longer be a part of the rebellion or the world anymore?”

  “Meaning…?”

  “Death, Rylie,” Amori said softly.

  She took a deep breath and shook herself out before nodding assuredly. “Yes. I’m prepared for it all.”

  It felt like a blanket had been suddenly yanked off, things becoming lighter and the weight that had been pressing in the room relaxed. Josephine showed a true smile and Amori leaned forward and reached his hand toward Rylie.

  “Welcome to the Rebellion, Rylie.”

  Rylie followed the leader and his second-in-command out of the small room and back into the main cave. People she didn’t know tilted their heads at her in recognition. She nodded her head back and smiled vaguely.

  She stopped at a large table. A few dozen rebels were standing at it, mumbling quietly over some blueprints and maps. Everything went silent when Amori approached and Rylie could see a sort of awe come over the people at the sight of him. She could kind of understand why.

  A little girl with cropped blond hair and bangs, no older than ten years old, scurried over next to Amori. Her hands were a blur and she had a weird excited energy to her, staring up at Amori adoringly. He barely spared her a glance, patting her on the head. The little girl clung to Amori’s jacket sleeve and he seemed to not notice.

  “This is Rylie, new to the rebellion. She’ll be helping us with undercover work.” That was news to her but she didn’t mind. Sounded fun. “How far have we gotten?” Amori asked the people around the table. The little blonde girl’s hands started flitting in the air again in weird motions.

  The people first nodded at Rylie and then an older man answered him, saying, “We still haven’t figured out where to put the explosives. There are hints of underground tunnels around there but we can’t figure out where or how. Do you know anything about it, your majesty?”

  Rylie choked on her spit. Your Majesty? Who?

  Wrinkles appeared at the edges of Amori’s eyes as he frowned. “No, I don’t know anything about them. Father wouldn’t talk much about the castle’s secrets to me. I’m sorry.”

  “Of course, your majesty. No need to apologize.”

  Rylie had to work hard to keep her jaw from literally dropping. Amori. Amori was the king's son. The tyrant’s son. She could sort of see it now. In the way his jaw was very square and his skin was an olive sort of green color, similar to the king’s. Amori… Amortus. How could she not realize that this man was the king’s son, going by a nickname? Perhaps because he was the rebel leader?

  She shook herself back to the present and looked at the blueprints and maps in front of her. Something seemed familiar.

  “Oh,” she said. “These are the money routes.”

  “Sorry?” Asked an old woman around the table that Rylie recognized as a smaller noble.

  “These paths under the castle you’re talking about… They’re money routes. It’s how the royal family would transfer money to and from the bank without alerting the populace about it.”

  Lots of stares accompanied her explanation but Rylie refused to react. One particular one made her very uncomfortable as the little blonde girl seemed to both glare at Rylie and seem grateful. She tore her eyes away.

  “How do you know that?” The old man asked.

  “My family. We work with the security of banks… my grandfather created those tunnels.”

  “So then you know where we can get in?”

  Rylie hesitated. “Yes… but it’s nothing easy.”

  “We need anything we can get, Rylie. Please.” Amori looked at Rylie imploringly and Rylie sighed internally.

  “Of course. You’ll have to go either through the bank or through the castle. Those are the only two openings. I don’t know where either of the openings are but I might be able to figure it out?”

  “That would be perfect, Rylie. When can you get that information by?” Amori asked.

  Rylie tugged on her hair and chewed on her lip. “Tomorrow?” She asked it like a question.

  “That would be amazing.” Amori gave her a grin and she smiled back, really hoping she could figure out where the openings were that fast. “Let’s move on to what we’ll use down there and who’s going. Do we know how far Kai has gotten with making the explosives?”

  “Yes,” said a younger woman. “He’s figured out everything about them but he may need to make them smaller for us to bring them under the castle now that we know more about the tunnels. We need them to be more inconspicuous.”

  “And Jordan has volunteered to go but Amy fell sick this morning. She has the flu and Grant doesn't think she’ll be well enough to make it to the castle. We don’t have many others in the undercover unit to go with Jordan so it might just have to be him.”

  “Where are the rest?” Josephine asked, frowning.

  “Caleb and Brenan are in Viseworth, watching the actor-prince. Sally and Hemsworth are in their deep cover. And then-”

  “Ah, yes. I remember. Sorry.”

  “But not everyone in the Undercover unit has been used. We still have Rylie,” Amori pointed out.

  “She’s brand new,” someone said cautiously. “We don’t know if she’ll do any good.”

  “We’ll never know by that logic then, if we don’t have her try something, Finnigan.” Josephine countered.

  “We can switch her out for Sally. She-”

  “Sally, like you said, is in deep cover.”

  “What about–”

  “Amori,” Rylie said. “I can do it.”

  Amori looked at her and nodded. “Rylie will go undercover with Jordan. That’s the last of it, we have no other options. Plus, as Josephine pointed out, she’ll need practice either way.” The table ceased its arguing. “Finnigan, go take Rylie to Jordan for the rundown of the mission. Then have her go to Kai. She’ll probably be able to help with how to make the bombs inconspicuous.”

  Finnigan, a tall guy with a beard already growing in, nodded and jerked his head to have Rylie follow him. The girl was trying to flap her hands at Amori again, tugging on his shirt sleeves and trying to pull his hand down to a map. Amori grew frustrated and pushed the girl away with the arm she was grabbing. The blonde girl fell to the floor and pouted before wiping herself off and standing up. Rylie glanced one last time at Amori before following Finnigan.

  “Jordan will be over here, probably getting his act together for the undercover mission. Do you know when it’s happening?” Rylie shook her head. “No, of course not,” he said, not rudely. “It should happen in about a week. We’ll need to come up with a reason why you’re with Jordan. That will be hard and perhaps a little suspicious but we’ll work it out. Okay, here you go. This is the undercover unit’s room. Jordan should be in there.”

  Finnigan opened a gross wooden door for Rylie and she crossed the threshold. Who she assumed was Jordan was lying on a bench, his hands holding flash cards above his head and his lips moving, mumbling words she couldn’t hear.

  “Uh, Jordan?” He looked over at her and hopped up. “I’m your new, uh, partner for the mission.”

  “Well, I hope you’re better at acting than you are at talking. Nice to meet you, though.”

  Jordan held out his hand and Rylie shook it. “You’re… a Hoffman, right?”

  Jordan’s eyes brightened. “Right, you are! I’m the youngest. How did you know?”

  “Oh, I worked at an internship for a little while with your brother last summer. You look just like-”

  “Stop it there. I don’t want to look like him.”

  Rylie blinked a few times but was worried her voice would crack embarrassingly if she said anything so she just nodded and gave a small smile. As if that wasn’t just as awkward.

  “Alright, do you know anything about the mission?”

  “Not really? I kind of pieced some of it together but…”

  Jordan snorted. “Just like them to have to make me explain.”

  As Jordan explained their mission, he waved at different things strewn around the room. Dress robes, fancy hats, and a gun. He talked well and concisely and it was easy for Rylie to understand the mission.

  Finally, he asked, “Any questions?”

  Rylie didn’t even think before she asked, “Who’s that little blonde girl who’s always around Amori?”

  Jordan frowned. “Cindy-Mae? Oh, she’s no one. Just a little mute girl who likes to tag along. She’s more of a hindrance than anything, really.”

  “Wait, how do you know her name if she’s mute?”

  He paused for a moment and looked at the ceiling, frowning even more. “I… don’t know. I think someone just started calling her that and it stuck or something.”

  “Huh. Weird.”

  “Yes, she is. Anyways, you said you needed to meet Kai?” Jordan strode to the door and opened it wide. Rylie followed him out. She could see Cindy-Mae consistently, trying to be seen by Amori, her hands still flapping, it seemed, uncontrollably.

  “Oh!” Rylie exclaimed, finally understanding. “She’s signing!”

  “Yeah, but no one knows what language she’s doing it in. None of us recognize it.” Jordan almost seemed to skip through the cave hallways, leading her up and down and left and right through a dizzying array of rock. “Here,” he said at last. “Is Kai.”