A short three-part fic.

Thanks Fiddlehoffer for an excellent beta job!

Judge
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cori

The dark hood vanished, filling my world with eye-watering brightness. I blinked furiously, trying to force my eyes to adjust, and jerked against the ropes holding my wrists tightly behind my back. Where am I?

The freezing, hard-as-ice fingers clamped around my arm dragged me forwards. I stumbled as the ground changed level without warning - stairs, perhaps. The fingers released with a sharp push and I fell to my knees. A loud clanging sound echoed through the room, followed by the click of a lock.

"There are supposed to be two of them," came a ghost's echoing, sneering voice.

My head jerked up, squinting through the glare. Vague shapes were starting to stand out against the blast of white. I tried to ignore the nagging ache in my head as I forced my breathing to remain slow and calm. My eyes would adjust to the light if I gave them a few seconds. Then I'd know where I was and how to get free.

"This was the only one there." The reply came from a ghost much closer to me. I glanced over my shoulder, barely able to make out a greenish blob behind me. It sounded somewhat military. Am I surrounded? "The other is still being located."

There was a disappointed-sounding noise from the direction of the first voice.

I blinked hard, wishing I could wipe the tears from my eyes. My arms pulled against the ropes around my wrists again, hoping for a bit of looseness. No luck.

"Human."

Assuming the ghost was speaking to me, I got to my feet and raised my chin. I could make out metal rods around me - I was in some sort of cage. My vague hopes of escape stuttered to a stop. The sound earlier must have been the door closing behind me. What a backwards situation: a human in a cage. A sneer attempted to curl at the corner of my mouth despite the fear thumping loudly in my veins. Where am I? What's going on?

"You are being charged with the crime of the creation of aberrations against nature. The first was overlooked - an accident of fate, perhaps. But now that there are two made from your foolish ignorance, something must be done."

The world came into focus. Before my cage sat in a large chair - a throne, almost - with an imperious-looking ghost seated in it. Turning my head, I could make out rows and rows of ghosts sitting in pews. I seemed to be in the middle of some sort of middle-ages-style government arena. Everything was glowing faintly - am I in the ghost world? Turning my attention back to the main ghost, I stared into his red… eye?

My gaze flickered around the room again. All the ghosts in the room, with the exception of the green guards, only had one eye. And they were staring at me. A tingle of new unease swept down my spine. Between the ropes, the cage, and the hundreds of ghosts with their attention on me, I had no hope of fighting my way free.

"Do you understand, human?" It was speaking to me like I was a slow child.

I blinked at the ghost a few times and considered not answering, but the ghosts seemed to be content to stare in my direction. Licking my dry lips, I forced down a shiver of fear. I needed to bide my time until I found a better chance of escape. "No. Where am I?" My voice came out more confident than I felt.

The ghost ignored the question. An eyebrow twitched and its attention turned away from me. "Bring the creature in," it said haughtily, gesturing towards a pair of greenish guards.

Twin doors slammed open with a booming crash that made me jump. My heart pounding in my chest, I twisted around to watch a pile of ghosts paraded in, surrounding something much smaller and darker putting up a fight.

"Get your hands off me!" came a familiar snarl.

I stared as the ghosts pushed the squirming form to the front of their pack, holding him down with ropes and sharp objects pointed towards his face. What's Phantom doing here? The ghost boy somehow managed to roll onto his back and land a solid kick to one of the guards despite their best efforts to keep him out of range. Seeing Amity Park's resident spook trussed up made my breath catch in my throat. In my experience with Phantom, the boy was many things - untamed, unpredictable, unsavory - but never controllable. What have I gotten myself into?

"See? Such a wild, unkempt creature," the one-eyed ghost said.

Phantom glanced up at the ghosts around us. "One-eyes," he greeted with a sarcastic smile. "Nice to see you again."

The one-eyed ghost sniffed contemptuously.

"Oh, great. I've been captured by the Mansons of the Ghost Zone," Phantom drawled. His gaze drifted to catch mine, his green eyes widening slightly.

I narrowed my eyes and raised my chin slightly. Even if I had no clue what was going on, I wasn't going to appear cowed by this.

"Why's there a human here?" Phantom asked. When the guards jerked on the ropes around his body, the teenage spirit allowed himself to be pulled into a seated position.

"She is being charged with the creation of an aberration of nature." The ghost straightened its shoulders.

Phantom went still.

I glanced from Phantom to the one-eyed ghost. Charged? In some sort of court? And that was the second time the ghost had brought up this aberration thing - what does it mean?

It yanked on its thick robes and continued smoothly, perfect nonchalance in it's posture and tone. "You, in other words, creature. The punishment for her is a thousand years of torment."

Him? Charged with the creation of... Phantom? I stared at the young ghost, confusion edging into my mind. What?

The gleam in the boy's eyes turned absolutely murderous. "No," he said, his voice a dark growl. I couldn't quite suppress a shiver as cold swept through the room. "She's human, you can't-"

"You have no say in the matter," the one-eyed ghost said. "Gag the creature if it speaks to me again."

"You can't tell-" Phantom's words cut off as a bit of cloth was forced between his teeth and tied around the back of his head. He made a horrible collection of sounds through the gag, seeming to settle for sending a death glare at anyone who looked his way. Energy crackled around his body like lightning. The guards took a few more steps back, but kept their hold on the ropes holding him in place.

"Now," the ghost said, turning back to me. "Human. Do you have a name you prefer?"

I dragged my gaze from Phantom's trussed-up form, not processing the question that was asked. "I didn't create him," I said, unable to stop my eyes from jumping back to the ghost. What is going on?

"That does not answer the question I asked."

I glanced around. Hundreds of ghosts stared down at me from the arena-shaped room. Letting out an unsteady breath and forcing myself to stand straight and tall, I turned my attention to the one-eyed ghost sitting on the large chair. I had to play this correctly if I wanted to see my family again. No matter what I was feeling on the inside, no matter how confused I was, I had to be the calm, collected ghost huntress on the outside. "Maddie Fenton," I answered. My voice didn't shake.

The ghost leaned back in its chair, pressing its fingertips together just below it's eyeball. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it, human?" The last word was layered with condescension.

Phantom made a rude-sounding noise from his place on the ground.

"To the evidence then, shall we?" The ghost made a gesture with its hand, and a blurry image of the Fenton Portal appeared in the air. "You created this device?"

I stared directly at the odd-looking ghost, trying to look in control of the situation. "Yes."

"The first humans to ever intentionally create a rift between our worlds," it said. There was a small smirk on its face. "What an accomplishment."

Phantom made another noise through his gag. I glanced at him, noting that Phantom hadn't taken his glare off the other ghost.

"I don't understand," I said slowly. "What does the portal have to do with Phantom?"

"That," the ghost said, jabbing a finger at the image of the portal, "created that." This time the gesture was towards Phantom. "That," again at Phantom, "is an abhorrence. A wild monster. As you created that," the portal, "you are responsible for that's," the final gesture was towards Phantom, "existence."

What? I stared at the one-eyed ghost. "My portal... created him?" My eyes trailed over to the ghost boy. He was making an almost audible growling noise by that point, his gaze focused on the main one-eyed ghost, Phantom's guards edging further away from him. "I don't-"

"Show the human," the ghost said with a bored sigh.

There was a pause as the guards glanced at each other, then Phantom made a strangled noise when the ropes around his neck tightened. The ghosts tried to drag him forwards using just the ropes, but Phantom was having none of that. He bucked and fought, managing to land enough hits on his guards to leave a trail of oozing ectoplasm behind him. Energy raced down the ropes, making several of the ghosts drop their hold.

Another ghost - this one tall, bone-white, with a large hat and jacket - stalked into the room. "Get control of the prisoner now," the ghost snapped, his voice heavy with a southern drawl.

Phantom went still at the ghost's words, crouched on the ground, his green eyes watching the new arrival carefully. It was a sort of wary respect, I realized with a start. This new ghost wasn't a creature to be trivialized. My nonexistent chance of escape dropped another notch.

One of the guards grabbed hold of Phantom's arm and pulled him the rest of the way to my cage. From this close, I could see the swirling energy in his eyes. Worry, anxiety, and helpless anger filled them. When the guard jerked on Phantom's arm, yanking off the glove and forcing Phantom's hand over so I could see the palm, I stared down at the boy's hand. A strange scar marred the palm his hand; spiderweb-like patterns traced over his wrist and under his sleeve. "What is that?" I whispered.

Phantom's eyes narrowed, his jaw jutting out slightly as he set his teeth into the grimy gag.

"How did you die?" I asked him, knowing he wouldn't be able to answer. He blinked a few times, pulling back against the guards' grasp, trying to get away from me. Things clicked together in my head. The boy's creation. The ghost's questions about our portal. "The portal."

The boy's expression wavered for a second before hardening again. But it was all the answer I needed.

The portal's abrupt 'working' status was a long-standing mystery in our house. Jack thought it had simply taken hours to properly warm up after we plugged it in. That theory had holes though, and I had always been sure Danny knew what had happened that day. Although he refused to talk about it, the child had suffered from nightmares for weeks after the portal turned on…

Phantom had... died. In our basement. Danny's nightmares took on a very dark and nauseating tone.

Unable to tear my gaze away from the teenager the ghosts were claiming died in my basement, my heart stuttered in my chest. The last pieces quickly fell into place: I'm on trail for murder.

"Tell me how he died," I demanded, trying to force back the fear that was making the hairs on my neck stand on end. The punishment is a thousand years of torment. I had to stay calm. I had to think this through. I needed to use logic to-

The one-eyed ghost snorted derisively. "Human, if he would have died, we wouldn't be here going through this farce of a trial."

"What?" I turned around, staring at the ghost in confusion. "He's a ghost. He had to have died-"

"It's such a stupid creature," it said with a sneer, "that it couldn't even die properly."

Phantom made such an odd noise that I glanced over at him. His eyes were tightly closed, his arms shaking.

"I don't understand," I repeated, desperately searching for shreds of sense in what the ghost was saying. "He's a ghost. You said the portal-"

The one-eyed ghost got to its feet and interrupted my question. "I don't care anymore. The council will now deliberate the charges against you, although do understand that the evidence against you is overwhelming and damning. You will be found guilty. Take them away."

The guards jerked on the ropes holding Phantom in place. Phantom's eyes glowed with a eerie, horrible green I'd never seen before. I flinched backwards, startled at the raw, furious look on his face.

He spun around, snapping several of the ropes. There was horse yelling and the splatter of green as Phantom blew through the guards on his way towards the dais where the one-eyed ghost was sitting. The contemptuous ghost shrieked as Phantom made it through the ring of guards and raced towards it -

A black hand - a huge black hand - appeared in my vision. It flicked through the air, slammed into Phantom, and sent him spiraling into a wall. His body hit with an audible crack. He slumped to the ground, seemingly unconscious.

It all happened in a moment. My heart hadn't even had time to start racing.

I tore my eyes away from Phantom, staring up and up and up at the white-bone ghost. He had grown significantly - his head now brushed the ceiling. The ghost crossed his arms over his chest, nodded in an oddly respectful way to the one-eyed onlookers, then stalked towards the door, shrinking as he went. The twin doors slammed shut behind him, leaving the room in silence.

The main one-eyed ghost picked itself up. Phantom hadn't come within feet of it, but it still looked pained and disheveled. "Take them away!" it shrieked again. "Now, you incompetent fools!"

Several of the guards were lying on the floor, not moving, thick pools of green seeping around their forms. A few of the braver ones crept towards Phantom's body, grabbing his still-trussed arms and hauling him out a side door. Two more stepped up to my cage. There was a rattle of keys, then the door opened. "Come with me, human," one of the guards said.

I stood still a long moment, staring at the door Phantom had vanished through. Fear and confusion warred in my head.

"Human," the guard repeated.

Not letting my conflicting emotions cross my face, I stepped out of the cage. I forced myself to hold my head high and calm - a powerful ghost huntress - as ice-hard fingers curled around my arm and I was pushed in the same direction as the ghost boy.

They took me to a medieval sort of jail cell. The ropes on my wrists were removed before the door slammed shut with a resounding bang. Greenish, glowing stones formed every wall except the front where the entrance was. Thick, glowing bars criss-crossed the small opening.

I wasn't alone. Phantom was lying on the ground near the back wall, his glove still missing and a dark green, awful-looking bruise colored his temple. Nobody had bothered to remove the gag or the ropes.

I gazed at him, not moving from my place at the door. Phantom had been an odd, but somewhat steady presence in Amity Park for two years. With few rare exceptions, the ghost was predictable in one aspect of his existence: he didn't attack humans. Ghost fighting was his M.O. Of all the ghosts in the universe, this was perhaps the safest one for me to be locked in a cell with. At least, until he got hungry.

Making my way over to the opposite wall from the ghost, I sank to the ground and tried to force the confusion clogging my brain into a working state. I needed an escape plan. And an escape plan would only be possible once I understood the situation I was in.

Facts. Listing facts had always helped in the past.

I was in some sort of ghostly court, likely trapped within the depths of the ghost world. That was fact one. I forced down the shiver of fear at the idea of being unarmed and surrounded by an infinite amount of dead spirits, then ran a hand over my face. I didn't have the time to go into a panic attack. I had to think. What other facts did I know?

Fact two: the ghosts claimed I had murdered Phantom.

That thought brought my mind to a dead halt for a long second. Closing my eyes, I breathed in and out, slowly and deeply, as I let the idea settle into my head. I swallowed heavily, then pushed the thought away. I could deal with the emotional ramifications of that later. Right now, I had to think logically. Dispassionately.

My gaze drifted over to the teenage ghost. I wrapped my arms around my knees. Had I really taken part in the death of this young man?

Again, I had to wrench my thoughts away from the topic. Sitting and stewing on something that might have happened several years ago wasn't helpful. I needed to focus on the here and now.

Aberration. The ghosts kept calling him that. If it would have died... it couldn't even die properly. What did those comments mean? Could the ghosts somehow consider Phantom to be... alive in some way? I stared at the unconscious ghost, confused. His current state, in and of itself, was strange. Ghosts didn't have a consciousness; it wasn't possible for them to be unconscious.

Fact three: if I didn't get out of this place soon, the ghosts were going to condemn me to some terrible Hell-hole for the rest of my life.

I scowled and curled my fingers into fists, fighting back another wave of terror at the thought. I let out an unsteady breath and racked my mind for something positive. Something that would get me out of here and home to my family.

I found myself staring at the ghost again. Fact four: I was trapped in a cell with a ghost who had shown himself to be somewhat friendly towards humans in the past and, on a positive twist, probably knew more about what was going on than I did. All I needed to do was keep this ghost on my side. Maybe he really did have some sort of saving-people obsession like he regularly claimed, rather than just the territorial, fiery temper.

There was little else I could do: I was going to have to - tentatively - place my life in the hands of the enemy. In the hands of someone I might have gotten killed.

I stayed in my spot, getting control of my emotions. Calm. Cool. Collected. I had to be in charge of the situation from the moment I woke the ghost up - it was my only hope for escape. After a long minute, I got to my feet and drifted across the stone floor to sit beside the ghost. I shook his shoulder. "Hey, Gho- Phantom."

The ghost's intense green eyes flashed open. He stared at me uncomprehendingly before letting out a stifled noise.

"Hang on," I said quietly, helping him to sit up and then reaching for the gag's knot. The ghost held perfectly still as I tugged at the old cloth. "There." The gag fell away.

Phantom spit a few times as I worked on the ropes tied around him, then he rubbed his tongue on the back of a hand. "That tasted disgusting," he grumbled, reaching for the fabric to study it. "I hope this wasn't underwear in a previous life." There was a flash of green. I glanced at the fabric in time to watch it crumble to dust. "Thanks," he said, still rubbing at his tongue now and then.

I kept back the flinch at the ghost's display of raw power - a reminder that he could destroy me just as easily. My heart thudded loudly in my chest. "Any idea where we are?" I asked, trying to stay as calm as possible as I forced my eyes away from the burned bits of fabric.

"Jail cell, looks like," he said, getting to his feet and walking over to the bars. He rattled them, causing one of the greenish guards to hover over and glare at us. When the ghost vanished again, he turned to look at me. "How'd you get caught by the ghosts, anyways?"

The distance between us settled my heart rate a bit. With the one exception early in his existence, the ghost hadn't so much as threatened me. I highly doubted he would start now. "I don't know," I said. I remembered being in my lab, then a vague memory of swirling green, and then I was suddenly being escorted into that room - but I didn't feel the need to explain my memory lapse to the ghost boy. "What about you?"

The ghost glanced at me and a sardonic grin slid onto his face. "Some sort of long-distance dart with a knock-out drug. They're not stupid enough to take me on fairly. Have you tried getting out yet?"

"Through the metal bars, or through the solid stone?" I asked sourly.

He glanced at me sidelong with a 'duh' look in his eyes. "You're the human. Humans can phase through solid matter in the ghost zone."

I stared at him a long second. "Really?" I breathed. "That sounds too easy."

A shrug was my answer. "Ghosts don't think much about humans. I highly doubt they made a special human-proof cell just for you. Try it." He curled his hands around the glowing metal bars and pressed his face to them, apparently trying to see down the hallway.

Two steps brought me to the stone. It was cold and solid and felt somewhat fizzy against my skin.

"Imagine it's not real," he prompted. I glanced over my shoulder. He was leaning against the bars, arms crossed and head tipped as he watched me. "It's made out of ectoplasm, right? Ghost stuff. It doesn't exist on the same plane of existence as you. It's only solid because you think it is."

"I know the theory," I muttered, turning to look back at the stone. "I wrote the theory, you know."

"I know," he answered. I could hear the grin in his voice. "You're the world's best posthuman scientist."

Ignoring the taunt, I closed my eyes and tried to force my mind into the right sort of thoughts. The wall wasn't there. Well, it was, but it was made out of plasma - closer to a gas or a liquid. I could walk through the wall just as easily as walking through water or air. The only thing keeping it in a proto-solid state was the slight electromagnetic field that was buzzing against my nerves.

The wall disappeared. I pushed my hand through, feeling a grin on my face - this is it! I'm free!

And then my hand hit something hard. Feeling around, I curled my fingers around more bars. I opened my eyes to the strange sight of my hand seemingly disappearing through a wall. "There's metal bars," I said. "Just a few inches in."

I walked around the tiny cell, letting my fingers trail over the hidden bars in the walls. They were about six inches apart in all the walls. Another cage. Great. The tiny moment of exhilaration faded - escape from inside this cell wasn't likely. Something would have to happen when they were escorting me in the hallways.

"Well," Phantom said as he dropped into a seated position by the door, rubbing at the dark greenish bruise on his head, "it was worth a try."

"They made a jail cell just for me?" I asked, incredulous, but a tiny bit proud. The ghosts were afraid enough of Jack and me than they built a special cell just to house us?

Phantom snorted. "Nah, it's more likely for…" he trailed off. When I glanced at him, he shrugged and flushed. "Any human," he ended.

It didn't sound like the ending he'd originally planned, but I let it go. I stared at the ceiling, wondering if the ghosts had bothered to put bars there as well. Probably, since ghosts weren't limited to human's two-dimensional coordinate grid. "Any other bright ideas?"

"Wait for rescue."

I stopped and turned to stare at him. The ghost smiled and pulled his sleeve back, showing me a watch. A watch I recognized. "You stole that!" Jack had long believed the ghosts were stealing our technology - but this was the first piece of proof.

"It had an inch of dust on it and had fallen behind a table," Phantom said with a wave of his hand. The scar on his palm looked gruesome in the greenish tint of the ghost world. "It's a rescue beacon and neither of you ever wore it - Jack probably didn't even remember he designed it. At least I'm putting it to good use."

Reminding myself to focus on the real problem, I let the argument go. "I want that back when we're out of here," I said.

His shrug and uncaring, "Sure," wasn't exactly what I wanted.

"How long until this rescue gets here?"

He shrugged again, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. "Whenever someone sees that the beacon's been activated, then tracks our location down, then figures out how to get in here, then frees us. Could take a while, I guess." He rested his chin on his knees. "Couple hours."

I didn't feel like commenting on the fact that Phantom had just said his 'rescuers', whoever they were, would be able to mount a mission against all these ghosts in just a couple of hours. That would be a tall order for a highly-trained special ops force, much less whatever random beings Phantom had managed to pull together. Instead of voicing my disbelief, I sank to the ground, crossed my legs, and leaned my back against the wall. It was 'solid' again - or it was until that thought flittered across my mind. My head suddenly dropped a few inches through the stone to slam against the metal bars. "Ow," I hissed, rubbing at my head and blinking some stars from my eyes.

Phantom nodded in sympathy. "It's better not to think about it," he suggested blandly. "The less you think about it, the less crazy stuff happens."

I sighed and contented myself with sitting upright.

"It's worse when you start to think about the floor and what you're actually sitting on," he continued, like he was talking to himself.

I glanced down just as the formerly-solid ground disintegrated around me. I fell several inches before landing on the bars placed in the stone. I gingerly got to my feet, standing on metal bars I couldn't see, and shot Phantom a venomous glare.

"Huh," he said, tipping his head to the side with a small smile on his face. "They did put bars under the ground. Suppose they did the ceiling too, then."

"Suppose so," I said through gritted teeth.

Phantom let his small smile grow. "Oh, come on. How often do I get a chance to watch other people fall through the floor?" He got up and walked over to me, holding out his hand. "Give a kid a few minutes of enjoyment."

"You're not a kid," I muttered as I slapped his hand away. I could solve my own problems.

"Ghost of a kid," he corrected gamely, settling down cross-legged in mid-air, his head resting on the arm propped against his knee.

"Are you just going to hover there?"

With an overly-dramatic turn of his head, he chirped, "I'm locked in a cage, if it hadn't passed your notice."

I closed my eyes, trying to imagine a solid step in front of me so I could stand on the ground again. Trying to believe that the ground was solid enough to walk on - it had held my weight for all the time I'd been here.

"Bet your dreams of getting me locked in a cage never quite went like this," he commented.

I took a confident step forwards and was rewarded with the feel of ground beneath my foot. I made sure both my feet were on solid ground before opening my eyes. "No," I answered. "My dreams never went like this."

"How do they go?"

The thought of answering him honestly crossed my mind a moment; I couldn't remember a single dream of catching Phantom in a cage and running experiments on him. Other ghosts, sure. But my dreams regarding this ghost generally took darker turns. A lot of me begging for answers, from what I could remember. Greens and blues and reds.

But this was a ghost. I didn't need to tell him anything of that sort. "Dissections. Experimentations. Lots of screaming and yelling on your part," I told him, keeping my voice bland.

He didn't have a returning quip. When I glanced at him, he looked a bit paler than usual. I had to bite back a moment of guilt - if I had inadvertently caused the boy's death, than I certainly didn't need to rub his nose in his current state of being.

I slowly settled down to the ground, training my gaze on the ghost. "Since we're stuck here, I need some information."

Green eyes cut over to mine and narrowed slightly. "Why would I want to tell you anything?" he asked shortly. It was like something had closed off in his mind. The ghost that had been smiling and making sarcastic comments was gone.

"You were up for talking a few minutes ago," I said quietly.

He hummed and settled his feet back on the ground. Twisting around, he stalked over to a corner and sat down, chin resting on his arms, staring out into the hallway. A picture of a teenager who'd had his feelings hurt.

I was all for letting him pout, but my mind was belatedly reminding me that I needed to stay on this ghost's good side. We were trapped in a jail cell in the middle of the ghost world. He was - at the moment - my best chance of escape. I would have to put up with his poltergeist-like tendencies with a bit more grace.

I bit back a sigh as I realized what I would have to do. "I'm sorry," I said.

His eyes jerked over to mine. "What?"

"I didn't think you'd take it that hard," I said, keeping my voice steady and unstrained, despite the ludicrous fact that I was apologizing to a ghost. "I'm sorry."

Very slowly, his head tipped to the side. He squinted at me in silence, making me wonder what was he seeing. "Okay," he finally said. "Apology accepted." His body seemed to relax, the expression on his face becoming more open.

Another ghost stalked by outside the cell. The greenish glow from its body cast odd shadows through the bars. Both of us watched him walk past before turning our attention back on the other. I didn't say anything. I wanted him to speak first, for conversation to feel like it was his idea. He'd be more likely to answer my questions that way.

His "What did you want to know?" came at almost the exact moment I thought it would. He scratched a hand through his hair, wincing slightly when it brushed against the bruise.

I had a million questions to ask, but I needed to stick to the ones that would help me escape. And, since I really needed to keep this ghost happy, I'd have to stay away from questions that would get him angry. That narrowed down the potential list of questions to a rather small list. "What was that place with the one-eyed ghosts?"

He licked at his lips. "Um… kinda like a government. Those one-eyed ghosts are called the Observants. They…" he trailed off, then shrugged. "They observe, I guess. They watch everything that happens and make rules and laws and stuff."

My earlier assumptions had been right. "And punish anyone that breaks a rule," I added.

"Walker does, mostly on their command," he agreed. He shifted slightly on the stone floor.

"Who's Walker?" I already figured I knew. The bone-ghost with the black hat.

Phantom let a shoulder creep up. "The tall, white one with the cowboy hat."

I nodded; I'd been right. "Run into him before?"

It was his turn to nod. A dark shadow swept through his eyes.

I wanted to ask him about it, but I bit my tongue and tried to come up with a different question. It was unlikely the ghost would want to talk about it. "What rule did I break?"

He tensed. Even his hair seemed to stand up a bit straighter. "None," he answered shortly, looking away from me.

"Those ghosts seem to disagree with you," I commented.

"Doesn't matter."

"Yeah, it kind of does," I disagreed. I gestured around the cell and deliberately copied his comment from earlier. "I'm locked in a cage, if it hadn't passed your notice."

A tiny smile crept onto his lips for a moment for fading again. He looked at me through his bangs, seeming to study my expression for the longest time. A deep breath went into his chest, then slowly slipped back out. "You didn't break the rules," he amended after a moment. "If anyone did, it was me."

"What rule?"

There was the longest time without an answer. I was about to give up and find something else to ask, when he finally spoke. "It's not a rule, exactly. It's probably not even written down anywhere."

"That doesn't tell me why I'm here," I said.

"I know," he muttered. His knees crept up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them tightly. "I don't want to talk about it."

It took a sincere act of will to prevent my teeth from grinding together. I can't accept that. I need to know what's really going on. "What are the chances of them finding me innocent?" I asked, my tone sharp. I wasn't sure guilt would work on a ghost - but it was my best weapon at the moment and worth a try. Threatening was out until I got some sort of weapon, and bribing and begging were distasteful options for when everything else failed.

He looked up at me, apparently startled by my tone of voice. "None," he said hesitantly. "You're human - they don't care about you. They're just using you to prove a point."

"What's going to happen to me then?" I stared straight into his inhuman eyes.

The green mist in his eyes swirled a little faster. "They'll lock you up for a thousand years," he whispered.

"I'll die long before that," I said with a cruel twist to my voice. "I happen to know something about this world. The acidic air is eating at my lungs, and by tomorrow it'll have reached the point where I'll be coughing up blood. There's no human food or water here, so I'll dehydrate and starve while drowning in my own blood."

He winced and looked away.

"I'm going to be dead in three days, at the most," I said, fighting to keep my tone level despite the sharp rise in my heart rate. My palms were sweating and my throat felt dry. "And you won't tell me what I'm going to die for."

"We'll be rescued before-" he started.

"If someone finds the beacon. If they can get in here. If they can do all of this before those ghosts decide my fate and put me somewhere your friends can't get to." I closed my eyes, reigning in my temper and reminding myself - repeatedly - that I needed this ghost to save my life. I needed to stay calm. "There's a lot of 'if's in those thoughts."

He was quiet, unable to look in my general direction.

"Don't you owe me some sort of explanation?"