Quietly, I descend the stairs. On the first-floor landing, I pause and listen. There's silence to the other side of the door. The guards must have left to do their rounds.

It's time to pay the secret door a visit.

The room at the bottom is pitch black. What little moonlight I had on the stairs is not getting here. I stand for a few seconds, waiting for my eyes to adjust, until I distinguish the stacks of wood, and the section of the wall that is not concealed by them.

I feel my way there, careful not to drop anything.

My fingers travel around the wall. There's got to be something to open the door, something to pull. Oliver had managed to open it somehow. If I just explore it stone by stone, I'm bound to find what he had found.

"Hey," says someone.

I whirl around. A man in a hooded cloak stands next to the stack of wood, in a shadow so deep that his dark clothes make him all but invisible.

"Wait, wait, it's me," he says hurriedly as I move in his direction, my fists clenched. "I've been waiting for you." He pulls his hood down.

I stop and breathe. Oliver. Good old Oliver.

He steps forward and, to my surprise, scoops me into a hug. I've known him for years, but I don't think he's ever done that. I freeze, then awkwardly pat him on the back.

He draws back, holds me by the shoulders and peers into my face.

"Are you all right?" he whispers. "I was worried sick. I was about to go and look for you."

"That would have been dumb," I say. "But I'm glad to see you."

"You're glad? I've never been so happy to see anyone in my life." He grins. "You've actually fooled them? They mistook you for your brother?"

"Yes," I say. "By the way, where is he?"

"I hid him in Ashley's house. He is not doing too well." He looks at me warily. "When he came to his senses he was... not very reasonable. I had to knock him out again."

"You knocked my brother out?"

"You did it first, remember? Besides, what else could I do—he was fighting me, and I had to take him to safety. We had to restrain him when I got him to Ashley's. He's better now, but not too happy. He keeps talking about some Cassio punishing him and stuff."

"Let's go," I say. "I should talk to him. I could calm him down." I step to the door, but, to my surprise, his hand restrains me.

"Wait," he says. "Do you intend to leave the castle?"

"What do you mean? Of course, I do."

"Bruno, think for a second," he whispers. "You are already here. They take you for one of the slaves. You could serve our cause so much better if you stayed here for a while. You could verify the rest of the map, give us insiders information, perhaps open the doors when we come."

"We?"

"I've been talking to people," he says in a hectic whisper. "It won't be like anything we tried before. Not some local uprising over the bread prices, not a few peasants slaying a couple of knights in a tavern brawl. We could bring them down. If we combine an attack from the outside with our people entering through the secret passages, they will never know what hit them. We could…" He pauses. "You know we have enough people. I will get more. If you just stay here for a little longer you could be of enormous help. You could do things we cannot do from the outside."

"Like slaying the king?"

"No, no, don't even think about that." He draws back. "We will get him in the end, but if you try that now, you won't get out alive. What's worth a revenge if you don't live to enjoy it?"

I shrug. "I want to get them. I don't care about my life."

"I do care," he says sharply. "You've been like a brother to me." He steps closer, cups my face with his hands, and stares into my eyes. "We can make it. It's a big thing that nobody attempted before, but we can pull it off. We can make this kingdom a better, just place, where no firstborns will be taken away from their families. No more stupid wars. Peace and equality -- "

"You've always been a dreamer," I say.

"It was your anger that fueled my dreams. When good people like you have to suffer like you did, something has to change. The question is, can you do this?"

To stay here. To remain a slave.

Even when the events took their unexpected turn this morning, I didn't think that I would have to linger in the castle a second longer than I had to. I was only waiting for an opportunity to reach the secret door and leave. I could leave now—or I could stay and keep facing the very people I hate. But if that meant that I could help our cause more than I could from the outside, then there was no question, really.

And maybe when the rebellion starts, I could ditch Oliver's concerns and get my hands on the King, no matter the consequences.

"You can always escape through this door," he says. "There's a stone at the bottom that you must push to open it. If you feel that you're in danger, just leave. Your life is more important. So, what do you say? Are you in?"

"Of course," I say. "Did you expect any other answer?"

He laughs. "I know you for a while, Bruno. Just don't do anything stupid."

"You too." Surprising myself, I draw him into a hug. "Take care of Grumio."

I know that he will. He will teach my brother how not to be a slave.

In the meanwhile, I will have to learn how to be one.

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