Lykos was gone.
Sunlight streamed in the window, illuminating the small space. Burrowed deep beneath the cot's thin covers, Iliana eyed the room with a small frown. It'd proven difficult to sleep with the cuffs, but not impossible. Still, she was irritated Lykos refused to remove them--citing her escape attempt. The metal chafed against her irritatingly soft skin, but had yet to draw blood. She wondered if her new status as a siren would protect her against the sort of scarring cuffs like these tended to leave behind.
As she considered the thought, Iliana's eyes fell to Callias.
He hadn't moved. Strange, given most people shifted around during the night. His eyes were shut, but she wasn't certain if that meant he was still sleeping. Still, she took it as a chance to study him.
The merman's pale, blue-toned skin was coated with a thin sheen of sweat. His platinum hair hung loose to his shoulders. I wonder if it's as soft as it looks? She shook her head, casting off the strange thought. She highly doubted she'd ever get the chance to find out, not that she really wanted to know.
His right hand was clutched around something that hung at the base of his neck. She doubted it was the same pouch he'd worn when they'd first met--as that one should've kept him from being able to hear her voice. The longer she stared at it, however, the more certain she became that it was some sort of charm. That new sixth-sense of hers recognized it as similar to the golden feeling Eumelia's energy gave. Was that what all witch doctor magic felt like?
"You're staring."
Iliana resisted the sudden urge to hide. He was awake. "I'm not."
"My apologies," he replied, tone even. "I assumed that when someone looks in your direction for a prolonged period of time it's called staring, but I could be wrong."
She bristled. "Do you practice being rude, or does it come natural to you?"
"Rude?" Callias questioned, opening his eyes.
"Yes, rude."
"I believe rude is staring at someone while they sleep," he replied, then shrugged. "But, again, perhaps I'm mistaken."
This wasn't a conversation to be had while laying down, Iliana decided. It took but a moment for her to shift into a sitting position. Her legs dangled over the side of the cot, the blanket tucked around her waist. A shiver ran down her spine, the morning air colder than expected.
"You're an ass."
"And your vocabulary is abhorrent."
She furrowed her brow. Abhorrent... she knew what that meant. Probably.
"Again, rude."
Callias sighed, as if continuing their conversation was more effort than it was worth. Instead, he opened his eyes again and shifted to his feet in one, seamless motion that spoke of the muscle concealed beneath his clothing.
He approached the door, eyeing it for a moment, before turning his gaze to the painting he'd seemed so fixated on the night before. Iliana frowned.
"What is it?" she questioned.
When he didn't answer, she slipped to her feet and joined him by the door. The painting hung but inches above the chest and was framed with light colored wood. Ash, perhaps? Nothing too expensive, leading her to believe the painting itself wouldn't be worth all that much.
Something about the noble couple depicted in the picture was familiar. The longer she stared, the more it tugged at her memories. It looked like someone she knew.
Iliana glanced towards Callias, her frown deeping.
"Who is that?"
He tore his gaze away, meeting her eyes with that frustrating, blank expression of his.
"You don't know?" he asked.
"If I did," she drawled, crossing her arms. "I wouldn't ask, would I?"
Callias fell silent, then shrugged. His eyes flicked back to the picture, prompting hers to do the same. The couple consisted of a slender and elegant looking young woman, and a large, broad man. As was the style in these sort of paintings, the woman was sitting down with her knees tucked to the side, her fanciful dress puffed out around her. Her coal colored hair hung in curls to her shoulders. The artist had taken their time to add detail to the woman's features--which were stunningly beautiful.
The man in the painting was standing, but unlike in most, he didn't look to the artist. His face was tilted down towards the woman, his eyes focused on her alone. His gaze implied devotion, which was no doubt the purpose of his pose. He was tall, towering well over the back of the girl's chair, and was depicted as muscular, as if he'd devoted his entire life to training. His skin was a dark, sun-kissed tan and his hair golden blond.
"The late king and queen," Callias said, his tone sounding disinterested. He fell silent for a heartbeat, then he continued. "It's been said they were the most beloved royal couple Eol has ever seen. Sure, many of them like their current king, but there isn't near the level of devotion that those two received. They wouldn't riot over him like they did when Akaikos died."
His words pulled the story to the forefront of her mind. There were few people in the world who hadn't heard of King Akaikos, and his Reotakian bride, Queen Asha. It was a love story, or at least, it'd seemed to be at the time. The couple had met on the day of their political marriage, and according to the stories, fallen in love at first sight. Queen Asha had gained the loyalty of her people through her charitable attitude and almost saint-like nature.
The country had been devastated when Akaikos was murdered, and Asha deemed his assassin.
"Anything related to Asha's outlawed here," Iliana murmured. So, of course Lykos has her painting in his bedroom.
Callias nodded in confirmation. Pulling his eyes from the very illegal art, he turned his attention to the door once again. Iliana had little doubt that it was locked. Still, disappointment filled her as he tested the knob and proved her theory.
"Asha reminds me of someone," Iliana stated. "I can't figure out who, though."
He shrugged. "Perhaps you've seen her picture before."
Narrowing her eyes, she considered the possibility. "Not fucking likely. She's illegal, remember? Pictures of her are hard to find."
"Must you?" he asked, stepping back from the door.
"Must I what?" she challenged. His tone was beginning to grate on her. It bordered too close to what she might use to address an irritating toddler for her liking.
"Talk like a sailor."
Before she could release a colorful string of curses meant solely to annoy him, Callias suddenly kicked the door. His foot connected to the lock beneath the knob, tearing it from the cheap metal casing.
"The fuck?" Iliana gasped.
The door slammed against the wall with a resounding bang. Ignoring the fact he'd most likely drawn the attention of the entire Unseen Hand, Callias strolled casually into the hallway. He glanced to the right, then the left, then over his shoulder at where she stood, gaping.
"Shall we?"
She hesitated for a split second, then darted back to the weapons wall. If they were doing this, Iliana wasn't going out unarmed. After grabbing two simple blades, she returned to the hallway, offering the less ornate one to Callias. He eyed it, a small frown on his lips, then gave her a nod of thanks and accepted the weapon.
"It's not arm blades, but it's better than nothing," she pointed out. "Besides, you should probably save your energy."
She didn't know much about the merfolk beyond how they spent their lives in the sea, but she did know that they weren't allowed to leave water for very long. Even if he could have those strange fins on dry land, she wasn't sure the effort would be worth it.
"Agreed."
The matter settled, Iliana turned her attention towards the hatch they'd used the previous night. Without spending time on a search, she was uncertain if there was another way out of the building. Seeming to come to the same conclusion, Callias approached it and knelt down. She bit her lip as he closed his eyes, obviously listening for commotion on the other side. She hadn't heard anything, but perhaps the merfolk had better senses.
"That's... strange."
She raised a questioning brow, and Callias shook his head. Whatever was strange, it wasn't enough to keep him from tugging the hatch open. What met them beyond the door was utter silence and an empty room. She inched forward, planning on dropping down without the ladder, but paused when Callias threw his arm out in front of her.
"Wait."
She might've argued, but common sense said that given Callias was the one not wearing restraints, if he wanted to go first it was better to let him. However, even after she'd backed off, he didn't budge. Instead, he'd closed his eyes again, a scowl curling his lips.
"I hear fighting."
What? She focused her senses. Faint, barely there sounds met her ears, ones she hadn't noticed before. The clash of metal against metal, the rhythmic thump and shuffle of feet in combat. How had she missed that?
"Wait here," Callias instructed.
He dropped through the hatch, then disappeared from view. Iliana followed him without hesitation. Callias shot her a disapproving look, but said nothing as he started not for the door they'd come through, but one to the right she hadn't noticed the night before. Most likely, she'd been too distracted by Lykos' theatrics to realize that the small meeting room wasn't near large enough to match the length of the hallway above their heads.
Instead of opening the door, Callias laid his ear against it. Iliana hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the door into the tavern-like room. As curious as she was about the noises, wasn't it more important they ran before their escape was noticed? Seeming to think the same thing, Callias shot the questionable door another frown before approaching their exit.
"I hear nothing from this side," he murmured.
Nodding her understanding, Iliana let him tuck himself in front of her, seeing no reason to protest, before he swung the door open. The front room was deserted. A small thrill of excitement shot through her, followed by suspicion. This was their chance to escape. She wasn't certain what would come after--but they'd be free.
At the same time, where was everyone? Was this another trap? Or did Lykos truly believe they wouldn't be able to escape such a lacksidasily secured room?
With apprehension in her steps, Iliana followed Callias as he approached the final exit. She kept a careful eye around them, but the room remained deserted. In her time traveling, Iliana'd never heard of a port-side bar finding itself empty. But, then again, it was a tavern belonging to the Unseen Hand. Maybe the bastards were allergic to daytime drinking.
It wasn't until he opened the door, and she saw the fighting on the other side, that Iliana remembered the tavern was magicked to block sound. As it was, she stood, and stared, at the scene, unnerved by the lack of noise as stranger fought stranger. Fighters packed the alleyway, most on their feet and moving, but a handful on the ground.
The ground was coated in far too much blood for all of them to be breathing.
Iliana's breaths grew heavy, a tight pain gripping her chest. How were they supposed to escape through that? It was a wonder that so many people could fit in the tight space as it was. If she and Callias tried to push through...
They wouldn't be coming out unscathed, if at all.
Not only that, common sense said that anyone willing to attack the Unseen Hand had to know their way around a fight--unless they were stupid. With her hands bound, she didn't stand a chance, and she couldn't ask Callias to cover her. Not against so many.
"Why aren't they coming inside?" Callias asked, voice oddly soft.
She hesitated. He had a point. Why weren't they?
"I'm not sure, but... we need to move," she replied.
Dangerous or not, Iliana realized, this was their best chance. With the Unseen Hand distracted, it would be time before their escape was reported, and before anyone would care about it. Freedom was worth getting hurt, wasn't it?
Decision made, she didn't wait for agreement, instead moving around him towards the doorway. Then, stopped dead when the rebound of something unseen nearly sent her sprawling backwards. It took everything she had to keep her balance.
"Gods dammit!"
She should've known it was too easy. Unreasonable anger filled her mind, and she kicked at the open doorway, swearing as her foot slammed into an invisible wall. She and Callias were beginning to draw attention from those fighting. She'd seen a few of the fighters glance their way, before getting distracted by an opponent. They needed to move--not deal with magic.
"Another barrier?" Callias wondered aloud.
He put his hand out, testing the empty air. His hand easily slid past whatever had stopped Iliana's approach, and her mouth went dry. She looked down at her wrists, at the enchanted metal that encased them, and somehow she just knew.
Iliana couldn't leave--not while slavebound.
A/N: First update in forever!
Finally, I've managed to get some more plotting done. ;) I'd known where I wanted the story to go, but had used up all of of my short-term guidelines. Now, though, I've got more! So, look forward to getting regular updates again.
Hope you enjoyed.