Author's Note: Greetings after a particularly long absence! Parts of this chapter were written two and a half years ago, and other parts took two and a half years to write. Therefore, there might be some fluctuation in writing quality.

Third Island has always been about Kate more than any other Society member. The previous chapter was the climax of Reynie's story; chapter nine was the climax of Sticky's story; chapter six might even be considered the climax of Constance's story. Now comes the climax of Kate's story.

This chapter is fifteen pages long in MS Word. And you thought LAST chapter was long! Hopefully this chapter will give you a break from the cliffhanger-streak I've been on lately.

Aaaaaaaaaand finally, I apologize in advance for FF randomly making half of my horizontal barriers invisible.

Disclaimer: It's not even worth putting a stupid joke here, because it would ruin the story.

...

Reynie woke up sopping wet and feeling extremely nauseous. His clothes were drenched, and he shivered uncontrollably. His stomach felt as though a goat had rammed it. Coughing, he sat up. He was on grassy ground, and swift water ran in front of him.

"Nice of you to join me," said a lazy voice to the side. Reynie turned his head.

Standing about five yards away (Kate would know, Reynie thought groggily) was a tall man with soaked brown hair. He was wringing out his tie. Everything came flooding back: the handkerchief, the river, the Salamander, and…

Reynie felt sick. What had happened to Milligan? What had happened to Kate? He put a hand to his head woozily, and vaguely remembered McCracken breaking her arm. Cold fury surged through him; though it was not as cold as the water from Stonetown River chilling him to the bone.

All he managed to say was, "Y-you."

A deep chuckle. "What, no thanks?"

"Thanks? Why would I thank you?"

"It may have escaped your notice, but it wasn't Milligan or dear Kate who saved your life."

Reynie was silent while he mulled over this pronouncement. His brain felt numb and waterlogged. "Where am I?" he murmured finally.

"To be perfectly honest," said McCracken, cupping his hand above his eyes and peering into the distance, "I don't know where we are."

Reynie propped himself up on his hands. Nothing about this place was recognizable to him; they appeared to be in the middle of nowhere somewhere along the Stonetown River.

McCracken was pulling something out of his pocket. It was paper, having survived the river due to lamination. He unfolded it, and Reynie saw that it was a map.

"Let's see…" muttered McCracken, "Landmarks… the curve here… then that would put us…"

Reynie was gauging his chances of escape. There was nowhere to go, and he was in no fit state to run. Maybe he could jump into the river...

But before he could make up his mind, McCracken shouted "Aha!" and turned to Reynie with a grin on his face.

"You'll be pleased to know that I've determined our location," he said, and Reynie didn't know how to feel about that.

"Fortunately," the Ten Man went on, "We're very near Mr. Sir's cave—I assume you heard all about Mr. Sir in your clever little hiding place—so we can walk there, and then I can get the necessary equipment to get us back to the island."

It didn't sound very fortunate to Reynie.

Kate came to herself with a faceful of mud. She spat it out and tried to prop herself up on her arms, but they sank up to her shoulders in the goop.

Turning over onto her back, Kate was blinded by a light that was not actually very bright at all, but seemed like the surface of the sun compared to the blackness of the last minute. She sat up quickly, and all the blood rushed out of her head. She shielded her eyes, and then her surroundings came into focus.

She was on the river. Luckily, it was a very shallow part of the river, and she had not drowned. The water was much warmer here; it was almost like sitting in a cool, very muddy bathtub. Something had disturbed the riverbed, and mud had been thrown up wildly, meaning that it was now more of a bog than a proper river.

After a few seconds, she remembered what had happened and why she was here. She remembered everything from the moment they had been caught by the Ten Men up to her plunge into the river, when her consciousness had flickered and gone out like lights in a thunderstorm. It never occurred to her to cry; that wasn't how Kate's brain worked. What had happened to Milligan was a horrible thing, but she couldn't cry about it now. There was a job that needed doing.

If Reynie was alive, he was with McCracken. If he was with McCracken, then they were at the prison. And even if Reynie had drowned, Mr. Curtain was at the prison—and Mr. Curtain had to be stopped.

Action first. Grief later.

Kate stood up. Looking around, she saw a landscape that appeared similar to Faul's Prairie: miles of low hills and grassland, with the Stonetown River cutting through it. Many disturbed mussels and other mud-dwelling creatures were wriggling all around where she was.

And where was she? The landscape was unrecognizable and uninhabited. She'd never seen this part of Stonetown before, if she was even still in Stonetown.

She could see the path of the river. The mud had been turned up in an obvious pattern: the tracks of tank treads—the Salamander's. The great armored vehicle had been this way, which could only mean one thing. The Ten Men were returning to Mr. Curtain, and Kate had a feeling they would only do that if they had Reynie in their clutches.

It would be easy enough to follow the tracks; she was lucky the water was so shallow and muddy in these parts. But which way? A fine how-do-you-do it would be if she ran along the tracks, only to find that she had been going backwards. She knew that Third Island was due west from the city along Stonetown River. Now she just had to figure out which way was west.

She looked up. The moon (nearly full) was high in the sky, but it was obviously closer to one side of the great dome than the other. Her instincts told her that it was an early part of the night. However, she also knew that the moon rose and fell at different times each night. She closed her eyes, trying to remember exactly what her calendar had said. It seemed so long ago that she had last looked at it, safe in her own bedroom….

At last, she had it. The moon was in the east half of the sky. Blessing her own memory, Kate turned to face the west end of the river, and the prison, determined to achieve this one justice. She began to sprint.

The cave was just as Reynie remembered it, with one difference: there was no light in it.

"Mr. Sir?" McCracken boomed. "Hello?"

There was a huge squeal from within the cave. "What's that? Who's there?"

"It is I," said McCracken simply.

"McCracken? Is that you?"

A hunched figure toddled unevenly into the moonlight. Mr. Sir was not what Reynie had expected, but he definitely seemed the type who would live in a cave. He was humpbacked, and he wore a faded navy jacket over a stained white shirt, with ripped slacks and bare feet. A very thin layer of white hair hung down to his elbows, and his face was covered in grey stubble. His unusually jumpy eyes stared in slightly different directions, but he was looking at McCracken.

"McCracken!" he exclaimed, clutching his heart. "You gave me a turn!" His voice was creaky and high-pitched. "What on Earth brings you here at this hour? And why isn't he blindfolded!" He stared accusatorially at Reynie, who found himself quailing under the harsh gaze.

"I haven't got a blindfold," said McCracken, "and I'm afraid I can't let this one out of my sight. May we come in?"

Mr. Sir seemed reluctant, but he said "Yes... Yes, of course. Do come in!"

"Thank you," said McCracken with a satisfied smile.

The interior of the cave was not what Reynie had been expecting. He'd expected evil-looking contraptions and torture devices, but all that seemed to be in the cave were boxes—stacks upon stacks of cardboard boxes.

McCracken seemed confused as well. "What's all this?" he inquired. "You're not moving again, are you?"

"Well, I..." Mr. Sir was obviously an incredibly paranoid, jittery person—so much so that Reynie almost felt sorry for him. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. You know I never stay in one place for very long." He gave a nervous little laugh.

"You certainly don't," said McCracken. "This is astounding progress in packing up, considering I was here only a few hours ago."

The old hermit shrugged and smiled, showing sparse teeth. "I get a lot of practice." Then his face clouded. "Where are the others, McCracken?" he asked, suddenly suspicious.

McCracken hesitated, seeming to wonder whether or not he should tell Mr. Sir the truth. "They're headed back to the prison," he finally said. "They had to drop me off with young Reynie here to see to some unfinished business—top secret, you understand—and now I need a way of catching up to them."

The Ten Man was playing a very clever game. Reynie could see that the news of Milligan's disastrous appearance would have caused Mr. Sir to have a heart attack, so McCracken was inventing a story that did not involve enemy infiltration.

Mr. Sir went for McCracken's lies hook, line, and sinker. "Of course!" he said. "I think there's something in the back... This way, please."

He led McCracken and Reynie to a deep part of the cave, where two unusual-looking aquatic vehicles were resting. One of them was as big as the Salamander and completely unrecognizable, but the other was small, streamlined, and somewhat resembled a jet ski.

"I'll need the big one for my move," said Mr. Sir, "but you can borrow the little fellow."

"Thank you very much," said McCracken, the picture of manners and gentlemanliness. "I might also need something to make sure the little urchin stays close to me."

"Ah..." said Mr. Sir. "I just ran out of handcuffs—but I've still got a length of chain, if you'd like to use that."

"That'll be fine."

Mr. Sir retrieved something that looked like a chain of linked paperclips, but which Reynie knew was actually made of unbreakable high-tensile metal. He wrapped it around Reynie's wrist and squeezed it so tightly that Reynie winced, tying it off and tying the other end around McCracken's wrist. "Will that do?" he said, eyes flitting from face to face. For all his insecurity, he seemed to have no reservations about looking a kidnapped child in the eye.

"It will," said the Ten Man.

As McCracken moved the jet-ski-like vehicle over the floor of the cave, Mr. Sir watched Reynie nervously. "You know, McCracken," he said, "that boy's seen my equipment now—not to mention my face. You are going to brainsweep him, aren't you?"

"Of course," said McCracken without even looking back.

Reynie swallowed.

After about half a mile, Kate's feet felt ready to fall off, and her ankles were swollen. Pausing momentarily, she took her shoes off of her bare feet—she, like her friends, had lost her socks long ago in the elevator shaft—and tossed them into the river; they'd be nothing but extra load to carry.

The cool mud felt wonderful between her toes. She kept running, and though the trail disappeared from time to time, she knew where to go; at any rate it was always visible whenever she came to forks or tributaries. Finally, a large stone brick wall was in sight—unfortunately, she seemed to be on the opposite side of the island to the part of the wall she had demolished.

Kate paused. Should she continue on to the gate? She sized up the wall. It was rather uneven and would be easy to climb, if she wanted to. If she climbed over she might beat Sharpe to the prison. She would have to deal with the barbed wire at the top, though. Kate steeled herself: it was worth it.

In less than a minute she was at the top, maneuvering over the razor wire. She knew easy ways to avoid damage from barbed wire on a chain-link fence, but a stone wall was different. She looked at the angle brackets, which were used to keep the barbed wire at a forty-five-degree angle from the wall, to make it harder for prisoners on the inside to climb over; this wall was designed to keep people in, not out. If she carefully slipped her hands through the barbs and grabbed hold of an angle bracket, she could leap over the razor wire.

She managed it without incident, other than a long but shallow cut on the lower half of her right leg. Barbed wire was very possible to climb over—its purpose was only to delay the climber, so as to give the prison guards more time to spot him or her. However, as all the Ten Men were gone, there was no one guarding the complex at the moment. Having successfully hopped the fence, Kate set off at a run again.

McCracken pounded his fist on the door of Mr. Curtain's office, from which an odd, low humming sound was coming. A pause, and then Mr. Curtain opened it. His face was red and glistening with perspiration, a welding mask on his head. If he strained his neck, Reynie could just see a large wheel inside the room.

"What do you want now, S.Q.? I'm trying to..."

Mr. Curtain's eyes flitted over the two of them, before they promptly closed and he crumpled to the floor. In a weary and practiced motion, McCracken saved him from a severe bump on the head—elbowing Reynie's eye quite painfully in the process.

Curtain's narcolepsy didn't keep them waiting for long; two minutes of finger-drumming and impatient noises saw him awake. "Wh—what are you doing here?" Mr. Curtain sputtered furiously. "What's happened with Rubicund? Why is he"—he jabbed a finger at Reynie's nose, causing Reynie to cross his eyes looking at it—"here with you?"

"There were...complications," said McCracken. "Do you have anything to cut this with?" He held up his hand, and consequently yanked up Reynie's.

Trying to avoid another bout of narcolepsy, Mr. Curtain nodded and wordlessly produced a pen-like handle with a tiny razor-edged disc protruding from one end, like a glasscutter. Once turned on, it sawed through the high-tensile metal fairly easily. Reynie was left with a slender paperclip-link chain dangling from his right wrist. McCracken flexed his own newly freed wrist.

"Tell me about these 'complications'," said Mr. Curtain, sitting down and running his fingers through his hair—he'd taken off the welding mask.

So McCracken began to relate the events that had taken place in the evening hours (careful to emphasize his own loyal and helpful role). Reynie tuned most of it out, having lived the story himself. His attention was, however, recaptured when McCracken reached the point after he, Reynie, had blacked out.

"Once I finished with the boy," the Ten Man was saying, "Sharpe and I were about to deal with Milligan—but he made short work of himself."

Reynie's heart skipped a beat.

"Are you sure?" Mr. Curtain sounded and looked skeptical. "Remember the last time you thought Milligan was dead?"

McCracken pretended to look offended. "You've never paid me so little in my entire career! I wouldn't be likely to make that mistake again, would I? Anyway, Reynie here"—presently he patted Reynie's shoulder—"his plucky little friend with the bucket made a foolhardy rescue attempt which obligated me to stop at least one of them from drowning."

"Well," Mr. Curtain replied, "I should say you failed at the 'at least' part."

Reynie refused to believe that either Milligan or Kate had been put out of action. He would not, he would not cry. He needed to have his wits about him if he was going to get out of this mess.

"You're certain Milligan's dead?" said Curtain.

"As a doornail," McCracken replied. "He used one of my own poison syringes."

Reynie had stopped listening again. Partly in the hope of escaping, partly to distract himself from thoughts of Milligan and Kate, he was now analyzing the room and its exits. There were no windows, and only a single air vent that was welded shut. It was, after all, a prison. Most of the wreckage had been cleared out of Mr. Curtain's office, save for the inexplicably intact computer parts. The door was unlocked, but McCracken was two feet away from it (and still had his hand on Reynie's shoulder). He was going to have his work cut out for him in any sort of escape attempt. But he had to escape.

He had two options: be brainswept and held prisoner for the rest of his life... or find a way out.

In spite of the lack of guards (or perhaps because of it), Kate wanted to get out of the open as quickly as possible. She ran toward the nearest entrance. Now that she was out of the mud, she somewhat regretted getting rid of her shoes; the ground was pebbly and tough on a bare human foot.

Slipping through the door, Kate gave a little sigh of pleasure as the cold conditioned air splashed over her. She looked around. The corridor was deserted, so she wouldn't be captured—but where to go next? She thought the Ten Men would have probably taken Reynie to Mr. Curtain's office; and even if Reynie wasn't there, Mr. Curtain was no match for her in a physical fight. She could overpower him and hold him hostage to keep the Ten Men away. He would be her prisoner. All she had to worry about was...

S.Q.

"Kate?" said S.Q. Pedalian, his mouth dropping open in astonishment.

In a flash, Kate was at the other end of the hallway pressing her hand over S.Q.'s mouth. "Please don't struggle or yell," she said, hating herself. "I really don't want to manhandle you."

To her astonishment, S.Q. threw his gangly arms around her in a tight hug. Kate let go of his mouth in surprise. "Kate," said S.Q., sounding genuinely relieved, "I'm so glad you're safe!"

Kate blinked. "You are?"

"Of course I am! Thank goodness." He frowned slightly. "You realize we have to go back to Mr. Curtain now."

"No!" Kate shouted forcefully. "Please, S.Q., try to understand—Mr. Curtain wants to hurt us. You can't take me back to him!"

But S.Q. was shaking his head and smiling patiently, as though Kate were the one who didn't understand. "I know what you kids think of him," he said, "but Mr. Curtain is really not a bad man. He only wants to protect the country. Being as brilliant as he is, he sees all kinds of instabilities in the government."

Kate looked at him with growing incredulity as he regurgitated the lies he had swallowed over his career with Mr. Curtain. "Unfortunately, a lot of very powerful people in the government won't listen to reason—they only want to hold on to their power, no matter how bad it is for everyone else. So he has to be secretive in his efforts to improve America until they can see sense; some friends of his in the government who do understand are going to help him." S.Q. adopted a stern look. "He was going to meet with one of them today, to talk about new tidal turbines and power grids, but you've sacked this place and even sabotaged the Ten Men's rendezvous with him. You kids have made so many bad choices today, Kate. It isn't like you."

Kate gave him a sad, pitying smile, and ripped a strip of fabric out of her shirt. She then produced her rope, one of her only remaining tools since the contents of her bucket had been blown up.

S.Q. didn't notice. "Come on. Let's go see what Mr. Curtain has to—"

Feeling a heavy pang of guilt, Kate stuffed the fabric into his mouth and began to bind him.

"I don't see how we can say here," said McCracken. "The Wetheralls may be out of the picture—"

"Don't count on it," muttered Reynie.

"—but the Contraire girl and the bald one are still out there on Faul's Prairie. At some point they're going to wake up and tell Benedict where we are."

"But McCraig is there too, isn't he?" said Mr. Curtain. "He can deal with them."

"He was tranquilized," McCracken replied. "He's not able to deal with anyone."

"The Whisperer cannot be moved!" cried Mr. Curtain in frustration. "I haven't finished the modifications!"

"Finish them, then. Sharpe's not back with the Salamander yet; you have time."

"We've set up shop here. It took months to—"

"The prison is half-destroyed. Your government spy has been captured—"

"Thanks to YOU!"

They were walking—Mr. Curtain had left his wheelchair in his office for some reason—briskly down a basement corridor, toward the elevator, away from a room full of stored electronic parts. Mr. Curtain was carrying a bundle of radio antennae and McCracken a heavy computer. The monstrously strong Ten Man had it under one arm, trying to break Reynie's humerus with his other hand. Mr. Curtain was fuming. "Don't think you're forgiven, McCracken," he growled. "Your miserable failure has lost me three hostages, my hideout, and control of hundreds of power grids."

"I killed Millig—"

"A small comfort," said Curtain dismissively. "And he technically killed himself. This will be investigated, McCracken. Benedict will investigate this. My entire plan could be ruined!"

They entered the elevator, Mr. Curtain shouting lividly about the loss of his informant, McCracken standing silently. As it moved upward, Reynie happened to glance above him—

—and met the face of Kate Wetherall.

Kate was crouching on top of the elevator cab. The panel in the ceiling was gone again, and he could see the cable that they were slowly climbing, the one from which he had nearly fallen yesterday. She put a finger to her lips and mouthed "Leave it to me."

Kate was here. Kate was going to save him. Kate was alive.

In his astonishment and delight, a broad grin spread across Reynie's face. Mr. Curtain paused in his tirade and narrowed his eyes. "Don't you laugh at me, you little insect!" he snapped. "I'll have—"

Suddenly, McCracken exclaimed "The girl!" He had seen Kate.

"Snakes and dogs!" Mr. Curtain collapsed on the elevator floor and began to snore.

McCracken let go of Reynie to snatch Kate's leg with both hands. The elevator door opened, ignored by everyone inside of it. Reynie had no idea what to do; Kate couldn't reach for a weapon because she was using her only functional arm to resist McCracken's pull—and the effort was costing her dearly—and not even a miracle was enough for Reynie to wrestle him off of her.

Mr. Curtain snorted and bumped into Reynie's foot; Reynie glanced down at him and saw a glint of silver—and then he knew what to do.

McCracken was jeering as he tugged on Kate's leg. "Aw, come on, ducky! Or do I need to break another one of your little bones?"

One of her little bones smacked McCracken in the face. He spat blood on the floor and looked back at her, and this time he bore a very ugly expression indeed. "I'll take that as a yes," he said with none of his usual sanguinity. He grasped one of her bare toes and began to slowly bend it back. "Let's see how many little piggies we can snap before—Euuhuhh...!"

McCracken's whole body shuddered and went limp. He slumped onto the wall and stared, shocked and panting, at Reynie. Reynie knew the feeling: his body would be numb, his mind would be addled, his hearing and vision would have gone fuzzy; he'd probably have a faint burning taste in his mouth. Reynie carefully removed Mr. Curtain's silver gloves.

Kate hopped into the cab and looked at McCracken with disdain. "Come on!" she said. "Let's go!" They left the elevator—but not before Reynie had pressed the buttons for all the upper floors and the roof. They ran a few yards down the hall and turned back to look at McCracken leaning against the wall and Mr. Curtain sprawled on the floor. Reynie couldn't resist giving the stunned Ten Man a triumphant goodbye-wave as the doors closed and the elevator sped up and out of sight.

"Let's get out of here," said Kate. "Come on, it'll be faster to cut through the courtyard."

They burst through a side door into the small square courtyard and did not stop as they made for a door at the other end. They were almost back inside when a window above them shattered and something black, round, and huge hit the ground in front of them. The object unfurled and revealed itself to be McCracken, having jumped from a high story.

"I wanted to thank you, Reynie," he said, smiling, "for sending me upstairs—if you hadn't, I would never have found these." He held up two shining pairs of handcuffs.

"You're not the only one," said Kate, automatically assuming a fighting stance. "Look what I found outside your boss's office!"

It was her horseshoe magnet—the only item from her bucket that could have survived the explosion they triggered.

She swung it at the Ten Man's stomach, but McCracken was too quick for her. He rolled around her and lunged at Reynie, who yelped and tried to get out of the way—but he was too slow. McCracken rammed him into a drainpipe and handcuffed him to it. Then he turned to deal with Kate.

She faced him, snarling. "Oo, what a fierce little cub!" sneered McCracken gleefully.

"Kate, run!" Reynie called. "Take one of their cars and get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving you!" she yelled back.

McCracken laughed scornfully. "Oh, yes—like father, like daughter! That's right, come over here and help your friend."

"Don't you talk about my father!" she screamed.

"Your father is dead!" he shouted, his voice alive with mirth. "I killed Milligan!"

"SHUT UP!"

"KATE!"

Reynie screamed a warning as McCracken launched himself at her with the handcuffs. She vaulted away from him; he skidded to halt in the corner of the tiny courtyard. Kate hurled the magnet with all her might at McCracken's head. McCracken ducked, but the strong magnet had a different effect than Kate had intended; it pulled the magnetic handcuffs around and caused them to tighten around McCracken's wrists, slung around another drainpipe.

Reynie exhaled in amazement: McCracken was pinned.

McCracken and Kate looked no less astonished than he was. He saw a momentary panic flit through the Ten Man's eyes as he realized he was powerless to stop her now. Kate looked back and forth between McCracken and Reynie, handcuffed on either side of her. She tore her eyes off of the Ten Man and ran to Reynie, trying to figure out how she could free him.

"It's no use, Kate," Reynie said. "Go on, I'll be fine—he can't touch me now."

"There's got to be some way..." She bit her lip.

"Aren't you going to come get your magnet?" McCracken asked from across the courtyard.

"No," she replied coolly. "I'm going to set my friend free, and we're going to leave you here to rot."

"It's a shame, then," the Ten Man said with an evil smile, "that the key to those virtually indestructible handcuffs is in my pocket."

She turned to look at him.

"Kate," said Reynie in a low, warning voice, "he's just trying to get you to approach him so he can hurt you."

"Nonsense!" said McCracken innocently. "I can't hurt her; look at me, my hands are cuffed behind me. You'll never be able to get off the island anyway."

She took a step toward him.

"He's messing with your head, Kate!" said Reynie.

Kate shook her head and turned back to him. "I'll come back with the others," she said, and the beginnings of tears appeared in her eyes. "I'll come back for you, I promise."

"I know."

McCracken spat as she opened a door into the prison complex. "You're really going to leave him, just like that? I may not be able to harm him, but what about S.Q.?"

"I took care of S.Q.," Kate replied with her back to him. She sounded slightly rueful about it. "I...I tied him up and put him somewhere safe."

"Then what about Mr. Curtain?" McCracken said, sounding increasingly desperate. "He's still here. He's working on the Whisperer even as we speak—and when he's done he'll see to precious young Reynie here!"

"Don't listen to him, Kate!" Reynie yelled. "GO!"

"He's modifying it!" McCracken shrieked in a last-ditch effort to halt her. "He's going to combine it with his wheelchair!"

She stopped dead.

McCracken grinned. "Yes, it's true. Very soon, the Whisperer will be portable—and he's going to achieve that easily, seeing as how there's no one left to prevent it."

"I can prevent it," said Kate.

"NO!" said Reynie. "You have to leave! I saw the modifications, Kate!" For he now made sense out of what he had seen in Mr. Curtain's office—the disassembled Whisperer, Curtain in the welding goggles. "He's not finished! If you hurry, you can get back here with the authorities before he succeeds!"

"You're a coward, Kate!" bellowed McCracken over him. "Milligan's daughter doesn't reach his standards! Isn't that right, Katie-Cat?"

A deathly silence fell upon the courtyard.

Kate turned slowly; her face was murderous. "Milligan calls me Katie-Cat," she said through gritted teeth. "Not you."

McCracken smiled triumphantly. He had finally found the right button to push.

"No, Kate..." said Reynie frantically.

"Come on, Katie-Cat," said McCracken. "Come over here and teach me a lesson."

She let the door swing shut, stepping back into the courtyard.

"Kate, no!"

"Milligan's gone, Katie-Cat! You're mine!"

With a roar like a wildcat, Kate lunged at McCracken, ripping at his hair, punching him, clawing his face—and then McCracken's legs moved in a blur...and Kate fell to the ground, unconscious.

Reynie slumped in despair.

The moon was gone when Kate awoke. The sky was turning yellow around the edges, the stars slowly disappearing above the three people in the dingy courtyard. Painfully slowly, Kate remembered what was happening.

Suddenly she leapt up and looked around. Reynie was asleep. McCracken leered at her, struggling to stay awake himself. The Salamander didn't seem to have arrived yet. She'd been out cold for at least two hours—where was Sharpe?

And then she remembered Mr. Curtain. "Oh, my God," she breathed. "I have to stop him!"

"It's too late," the Ten Man jeered groggily. "It's over."

Ignoring McCracken—and shoving away her self-admonishments for giving in to his taunts—she bounded inside. Nearly slipping on some water on the floor that still had not dried up from the sprinklers going off, she burst into Mr. Curtain's office...and found it empty.

Mr. Curtain was gone. The Whisperer was gone.

She left his office and headed for the stairs (there was no way she was going to take the elevator after everything that had happened in it). Maybe, just maybe, he was still in the building somewhere. After all, surely he would have looked for his henchmen before leaving. Obviously McCracken hadn't been rescued, and she was confident he wouldn't be able to find S.Q. in the elevator shaft boiler-closet.

As she was bounding up the stairwell, she noticed something in her peripheral vision—something outside, through the window. She skidded to a halt and ran back to get a closer look.

Someone was crossing the prison yard—in a wheelchair.

Kate practically flew to the ground-level floor and burst through the main entrance. "CURTAIN!" she bellowed wrathfully.

Mr. Curtain spun around, and a huge smile spread across his unshaven face. "Well, well," he said. "You decided to join me."

"The game's up, Curtain," said Kate, raising her fists.

"You're right," said Mr. Curtain. He flipped a switch on his wheelchair. "Game over. Checkmate—you lose."

For the first time, Kate noticed what was on his head: a red metal helmet.

Her surroundings fizzled. No, she thought. No, this can't happen... Not again... Her senses were pulsing, becoming clearer and sharper and then blacking out again—and it was like her thoughts, her memories, were pulsing too. She fought to hold on, thinking of Reynie, of Mr. Benedict, of Sticky, of Constance, of Milligan, barely aware that she was swaying on the spot.

It was like someone was shouting in her ears. No, in her mind. Shouting so loud that it drowned out everything. And it only became louder the harder she fought it. There was nothing but the shouting of silence and the laughter of Mr. Curtain.

But there was laughter. It wasn't in her head. Mr. Curtain was really laughing, and Kate was really standing there, and the prison was really behind her, besieged and crumbling. For a moment she broke the surface, retreating back into reality—but she was still being dragged mercilessly into mental oblivion. What, what could she do to stop this? She was trying to hang on, but it was no help...

And then it hit her. She was trying to hang on. Everyone who had ever been brainswept always tried to hang on. But hanging on only drew out the very thoughts being hunted into the forefront of her mind. Hanging on was presenting her memories to the Whisperer on a silver platter.

My name is not Kate Wetherall, she thought. I have no father. I've never seen a red bucket in my life. The thoughts were swept away as soon as she thought them, but it was working. The Whisperer was targeting her inventions instead of her real memories.

I'm a hundred and one years old. I live on the moon. I have a dog with superpowers. Even the most ridiculous false memories were gobbled up eagerly. The Whisperer would endlessly devour her inventions... but she could not invent endlessly. She would have to get out of range somehow. But what could she do in her present state?

Mr. Curtain's eyes were closed. He was not moving. He was concentrating intently on the session. Kate's mind was occupied wholly on the fierce grapple with him. But all her life, her body had been trained far beyond the average human's. She could tightrope-walk. She could balance on top of a rolling ball. She could twist herself like a pretzel. She could run on her hands. And walking? Just...walking? It was second-nature. She didn't need to think.

Her thigh lifted and her knee bent. Her foot moved backwards through the air, and then came back down. The other leg did the same. Slowly but surely, she was walking backwards, away from Mr. Curtain. Gradually the Whisperer's hold on her weakened, until she was once again able to receive messages from her eyes and ears: Curtain was frowning, perspiring, his eyes closed. It was now costing him more effort than it was costing her.

The sun was rising.

Finally, she took one last step and broke out of range completely. Curtain opened his eyes, now looking quite mad. "Snakes and dogs!" he shouted. "How did you—? You're not—snakes and dogs...!"

Mr. Curtain buried his head in his hands, trying desperately to stay awake. The sun was a vivid orange, turning the sky pink around it, slowly creeping over the horizon.

"No one can resist being brainswept..." he said pathetically.

"Wrong," said Kate, standing tall. "I can."

The brilliant sun had almost come completely over the horizon now—but its light was blocked by a dark shape.

The Salamander was rolling into the prison yard.

Mr. Curtain grinned. "Looks like Sharpe has arrived," he intoned as Kate sagged in despair. "How very punctual of—" He stopped abruptly.

There was a man in the Salamander, pulling out a weapon... but it wasn't Sharpe.

All three of them stared at one another in astonishment, and then Kate burst into tears as Mr. Curtain fought to remain wakeful. Like a cornered beast, he snatched up the silver gloves Reynie had left in the elevator and shot forward towards Kate.

"No more stalemates," said the man—and shot Mr. Curtain with his tranquilizer gun. Curtain was asleep before the dart hit him.

Kate looked through her freely flowing tears at her savior, framed against the light of the rising sun. He smiled at her, and said something he had said once before to her, with much the same reaction.

"Sorry it took me so long, Katie-Cat."

...

A/N: Anything unexplained in this chapter (such as how Kate ended up on top of the elevator or how Milligan survived) will be explained in the final chapter.

Who else cheered when Reynie touched McCracken with the silver gloves? I did, and I'm the one writing the thing.