I nodded to Lark. "Good to be back."

"So I suppose you met the queen?"

"Yes," I said, wondering where this was going.

"She wasn't always bonkers, you know."

I hesitated, then said, "I've seen you before."

Her eyes lit up. "In your dreams?" Our faces were close now. Very close. I'd've grabbed her and kissed her if I wasn't so certain that she'd reveal herself to be an illusion, not real.

"I think so."

And then she leaned forward, her lips landing on mine. She was real all right.

Then the cell door opened and I jumped back after barely a moment of the wonderful contact.

"Well, look who's bonding," came Ford's smug voice.

"Bien, juste avant sa mort aux mains d'un bourreau brutal," Stacey muttered darkly.

I got up without complaint, with the sinking feeling I was going to die.

I looked back at Lark, who looked as if her heart was breaking. Could that be over me?

"Someday," her voice quivered. "You can tell me what a band is."

And with that, I was led back to the throne room.

Before the queen and the friar stood a tall man, dressed in black and carrying a large ax.

Stacey shivered. I gulped.

"Good luck," he whispered. There it was again! He was speaking English!

Before I could finish my mental outrage, Ford pushed me roughly forward.

I stumbled, but caught myself so I stood tall in front of the man.

"Good morning, Thorn! This is Cusie!" She motioned to the man, who simply made a face but said nothing. "He's one of my best mates, and he could be yours, too, if you'd just meet him, Thornie!"

I nodded, stepping forward.

"Here's a little game," said the queen. She suddenly plopped down on the floor as if preparing for a tornado drill. "It's loads of fun to play with Cusie. Won't you try it?"

I solemnly mimicked her position.

"I would play too," she said, standing up, "but Friar Anaheim says I may not play with Cusie anymore. So you will have to enjoy the experience yourself."

Sometimes I wonder if she's messing with me.

The man rolled his eyes and blew a loose lock of hair out of his face.

"H-how do I play?" I asked.

"Oh, thank you for asking!" The queen said, clapping. "Lower your head, and the fun can begin!" I did so.

"Turn away, Your Majesty," the friar ordered. The queen nodded, placing her pale hands over her eyes as if it really were a game. As if I wasn't about to die.

Then there was a sound of shattering glass and a cry of, "Sir Oliver est revenu et est prêt à frapper un butt!"

"Merde," muttered the friar.