With her heart hammering wildly in her chest, Claire turned towards Alek, expecting to see him awake and angry at being disturbed. He had confided in her that he didn't get much sleep after all. To her surprise, and relief, he lay in exactly the same position, chest rising and falling in slow, easy motions indicative of sleep.

Smooth, Claire, she thought to herself as she gathered up the fallen books and stacked them back up one by one.

She was nearly finished when a torn piece of paper fluttered free from the inside of the book she held in her hands. Setting the book aside, Claire crouched down and picked the paper up, turning it over in her hand to reveal an image.

It was the face of a beautiful young woman.

In the artist's rendering, the young girl looked quite happy. Her blue eyes were wide and full of life. Her hair, the color of spun gold, hung in loose curls over one shoulder and on the other shoulder rested a hand.

Where was the owner?

Claire ran her finger across the rough edge and frowned. At some point the drawing at been torn in two, and half of it, including the owner of the hand, was missing. But why? She picked up the book the picture had been tucked into and began to flip through the pages, hoping she'd find the other half. After a few minutes of searching she turned her attention back to the piece she did have.

Was the tear intentional or accidental? Hoping to find a clue, Claire turned the paper over and saw written in elegant, sweeping letters a single name - Sonja Veselie.

Who was this woman?

"Claire? What are you doing up here?"

Claire turned around quickly, hiding the picture behind her. She managed a smile and hoped her eyes would not betray her by exposing her guilt.

"I was coming to see if you were awake," Claire explained. He was staring at her, but not at her. His eyes were fixed lower, much lower, and Claire moved the picture further behind her back. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," he replied, sounding distracted as he stepped closer to her. "I told you I don't sleep much. I was simply resting. What is that you're hiding?"

"I'm not..." she began, but his pointed 'I know you're lying' stare told her all she needed to know. She reluctantly produced the picture from behind her back and showed it to him.

Alek's sleepy expression faded when the picture came into view.

"I thought I had burned this" he said, his voice flat as he stared down at the girl. "Where did you find it?"

"I bumped into some books, it fell out..." Claire explained quietly, watching Alek carefully. "Who... who is she?"

Alek frowned and crumpled the picture up in his hand. "She's no one," he said, tossing the picture into the fire. They both watched in silence as the flames licked hungrily at the paper, quickly turning into ash.

"I spent a great deal of time thinking last night," Alek said at last and Claire felt a tiny ball of dread form in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps it was the way he avoided looking at her, or the seriousness of his tone, but she had a feeling whatever was on his mind was not something she wanted to hear.

"So did I," Claire said, crossing her arms lightly over her chest.

"I know you think some grand adventure awaits you here," Alek said, pacing away from her.

"Alek..." Claire began, desperate to keep him from continuing, her heart skipping erratically in her chest.

"Just know that none of this is your fault, Claire," Alek pressed on, his voice heavy, "I knew better, I should have been stronger, more responsible, but every time I looked into your eyes, or saw you smile, something inside me whispered, just a little bit longer, just one more day... and now it's come to this."

"No, Alek," Claire stated, feeling her heart crawl up into her throat.

"You can't stay here," Alek finished, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. She saw the thin sheen of tears and shook her head rapidly, silently begging him to stop. "I shouldn't have kissed you, Claire."

"Don't say that, don't you dare say that," Claire snapped at him, anger rising to mix with the despair. "Tell me to leave, tell me you want me gone, but don't you dare try to act like that meant nothing, that you feel nothing."

"There are things about me that you don't know, that you don't understand," Alek protested.

"So tell me, help me understand, just don't push me away," Claire insisted, stepping towards him, reaching for his face with her hands. He caught her hands in his, holding them tightly, like a man caught in a storm might cling to lone rock for survival.

"I... I can't," Alek said at last causing Claire to pull her hands free. "It's decided, you'll be leaving this afternoon, Draz will accompany you."

"To cowardly to do it yourself?" Claire snapped, hating the words the moment she said them. Alek looked as though she had physically slapped him.

"Claire..."

"No, don't, just don't," Claire said sharply before turning on her heel and hurrying from the room.

When Claire had left the house that morning, it had been with the intent to find her own way back. In her anger she had decided that if he wanted her gone, she would go. Of course, she didn't know where to go and instead ended up walking up and down the length of Viridian Street. Her thoughts were a mess. As much as she wanted to insist he was wrong, a small part of her knew he was right.

Sighing inwardly, Claire closed her eyes, the early morning air was cold against her tear stained cheeks, but she didn't care. In fact, she relished the sensation.

It served as a distraction from her own jumbled thoughts.

Claire was turning to head back up the street when she heard footsteps behind her. She looked back, half expecting to see Alek or Draz striding towards her.

Instead she saw a curious looking older fellow with a limp in his left leg. He paused a few feet away and held out what appeared to be a small velvet coin purse.

"Um, miss, I think you dropped this back there," he said.

Claire shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, that's not mine," she said.

"Are you sure? Perhaps you want to take a closer look?" He stepped closer, his arm extending further. Claire shook her head gain, feeling uneasy.

"No, that's alright, I know it's not mine," she insisted, backing away from the man. "Thank you for asking. I've got to get going. I live just there, you see, and my husband will be worried and come looking if I don't return soon."

"I'm counting on it," a voice drawled from behind her. "Now sleep." Claire turned sharply, catching only a brief glimpse of a tall, dark haired stranger before she suddenly felt the ground beneath her shift. Her knees gave out and she felt herself falling. She never hit the ground, however, for the stranger caught her before she could.

Alek is going to be furious.

It was the last thought that drifted through her mind before blackness washed over her.

Darkness.

It was all Claire could see when she finally opened her eyes again. At first she feared she was blind, but after the initial panic wore off she realized that she was simply blind-folded.

It was both a relief and quite worrisome as she could think of no good reasons for this to be the case.

As her mind slowly began to piece together the events leading up to this particular moment, Claire realized that wherever she was, she was not among friends.

Once it was settled that she had gone and gotten herself into more trouble, Claire began to test the limitations of her unknown prison. Her arms and legs were immobile due to the fact that her wrists and ankles were tied firmly to what she assumed to be the arms and legs of a chair.

While she could not see, or move, she could hear. The room itself was quiet save for the persistent dripping of water somewhere to her left and the occasional sound of foot falls thudding overhead.

She could also smell and the scents that assaulted her reminded her of the root cellar her grandmother kept. In the spring, after they had gotten an exceptional amount of rain, the cellar always smelled like this -- musty and muddy.

The coolness was another factor to consider, and Claire could only conclude that her kidnappers were keeping her prisoner in a basement, or cellar. The space, whatever it was called, was definitely located underground.

The question that remained now, was who and why?

Good job, Claire. She thought ruefully. You figured out that you're in a basement. What next Sherlock?

Claire frowned, wondering why her inner psyche couldn't be more supportive under such desperate circumstances.

Pushing the thought aside, Claire focused on the rope tying her to the chair. In the movies people always twisted and wiggled and eventually managed to get free. As Claire strained, however, it became increasingly more obvious that movies were particularly deceptive when it came to such things.

She wasn't particularly surprised.

The more she struggled, the tighter the ropes seemed to become, the tighter the ropes became, the more they dug into the tender flesh of her wrist. After several minutes of trying, Claire heard the sound of heavy footfalls overhead.

A door opened and she heard the creak and groan of stairs straining beneath the weight of, Claire presumed, her kidnapper.

"Glad to see your awake, my dear," a man's voice called out to her. It was the same voice she had heard moments before she'd collapsed and now that she was able to actually listen, the voice sounded familiar.. "I hope you're all rested because you and I are going to have a nice, long chat."

"Who are you?" Claire asked, trying to keep her voice calm. She refused to give into the panic boiling in the pit of her empty stomach. "Why are you doing this?"

The man chuckled and while she couldn't see him, Claire could feel him drawing closer. He was quiet for a moment and Claire could picture him staring down at her and it made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

As seconds ticked by, Claire wondered if he would ever speak.

"My name is Sevik, and I want to ask you a few questions," he replied.

A moment later he pulled the blindfold off and Claire got her first look at the room. As she suspected she was underground, the very walls were made from packed earth. The only sources of light in the space came from a lamp resting on an overturned wooden crate and thin beams of light filtering in through the slats that made up the floor above their heads.

Sevik sat across from her, one leg draped casually over the arm of his chair, and his arms crossed lightly over his broad chest. Their eyes locked and Claire found herself staring into two, bottom black pools.

"You," she gasped when she realized why his voice sounded familiar. It was the man in black, the one who had tried to dance with her at the ball.

He smiled, an expression that was both cold and unsettling. "What is your name?"

"Claire," she replied, the answer popping out before she could think to lie.

"It's nice to officially meet you, Claire," he replied, his words sounding startling genuine. "I've been keeping tabs on you since you first arrived. We would have talked sooner, last night in fact, but I was rudely interrupted..."

"I don't understand," Claire stated. His confession made her feel violated. What did he mean by keeping tabs? What had he seen? What did he know about her? "I'm nothing."

"I won't tell you you're wrong," Sevik replied with a shrug. "You don't bring much to the table. You're pretty enough, but no great beauty, you've no skills suited to this place, and from what I can see you've only served to be a burden to those around you."

"Then why go through all this trouble...?" Claire asked, trying not to feel hurt by his blatant disregard. It wasn't what he thought that truly bothered her, but the fact that he had brought to light all her worst fears and confirmed them in a matter of moments.

"Because as useless as you may be, Claire," Sevik declared with a sweep of his hand. "You are my golden ticket. Until now, I was unable to find a way in. Until you, Aleksandr Drosselmeyer had no exploitable weaknesses. Even his family was not a viable pressure point. But you, sweet Claire, something about you has caused a chink in the chain. I saw the way he looked at you, the way he watched you. I saw your little interlude in the garden, so sweet, and now you are going to help me bring the Grandmaster to his knees."

"I won't," Claire replied, anger giving her strength. Who did this guy think he was? What kind of person did he think she was? "I don't care what you do to me, I won't do anything to hurt Alek."

Sevik chuckled and leaned closer, grinning wickedly. "Oh, but my love, you already have."