Darryl wasn't sure exactly how long they had been kept in the small stone room. With no windows or doors or any other way of seeing outside there was little to no way to tell what time it was and, by extension, how long they had been there.
All he knew was that Zak hadn't been returned.
Darryl hadn't even wasted his time trying to find a way out of the holding cell. Instead, he had simply slumped down next to the wall, trying his best to ignore the rough, cold texture of the stone against his back and the dampness that felt like it would soak into his bones and consume him whole. Or perhaps that was simply the exhaustion finally settling in. He'd been running on pure adrenaline for too many hours straight and finally, finally, it was catching up to him.
Vincent appeared to be in a similar mindset despite having had a few hours of sleep the night before. Darryl had watched the astrologer closely as he paced the small room almost restlessly, an irritable wildness to his movements. They had really come all of this way for nothing but four walls and empty space. They weren't any closer to the cure that they had been looking for. They had no new information on the rebel forces - except, Darryl thought, that they seemed much more organised and complex than he had originally assumed - and, to top it all off, they had managed to get themselves separated.
Things weren't looking good to say the least.
"When do you think they'll bring him back?" Vincent asked, voice cutting abruptly through the settled silence. Darryl glanced up at him wearily. "He's been gone for hours. They promised they wouldn't hurt him. When will they bring him back?"
"I don't know."
"They've got to bring him back soon. There's no way they could need to keep him away this long, right?"
"I don't know." Darryl repeated, barely moving from where he was sat. "He's important to them. They could never return him here for all we know. Perhaps they'll keep him somewhere else."
Although it wasn't a pleasant thought, Darryl knew that there were many less than favourable potential outcomes to explain why Zak hadn't been returned. The worst case scenario was, of course, that they'd simply killed him already despite their promise not to do so. You couldn't fully trust people like this - they were willing to stab others in the back if it was to benefit their own goals, something that Darryl remained keenly aware of. As long as they were in this base, they were not safe, and he wouldn't allow himself to let his guard down for even the briefest of moments.
The woman hadn't come back for them either. After she'd disappeared with Zak they'd been left entirely to their own devices, and, for lack of a better term, it was driving Darryl crazy. He still couldn't understand how word had travelled so quickly. The rebels had been far too prepared - they had known that the trio would be arriving ahead of time. But how? Darryl had decided to leave the palace almost immediately after the incident had taken place, without notifying anyone. To be able to get a message to the rebels in that time would be far too complicated, nearly impossible. But somehow, someone had managed it. That was what unsettled the knight the most. The idea that someone who had been in that room when he had made the decision to make this trip had sold them out.
Of course there were a few people who had been there that Darryl wasn't familiar with - it was a palace, there were a lot of people working there - but the idea that someone could have infiltrated the palace network like that... it didn't sit well with him at all. That meant the royal family could potentially be at risk, and that was exactly the kind of situation that Darryl had been trained to prevent.
"Things are more fun when Zak is around."
This time, Darryl couldn't find it within him to argue. Things were more fun when all three of them were together despite how chaotic and out of control events could get. Though he hadn't originally been happy with Zak accompanying them, it now felt odd not to have him there, as though he'd become some kind of permanent fixture in the last two days.
"Hey, things can be plenty of fun without him too," Darryl said eventually, though the words appeared rather empty. Still, brushing himself off, he stood up and stretched. "We could do lots of interesting things."
Vincent's gaze was curious. "Like what?"
"Like scratch numbers in the door using a rock like in the stories. Then we'll really be official prisoners or something. We'll have the authentic experience of what it feels like to be forced to stay in a cell for slightly too long."
"Wow. You're hilarious," Vincent replied dryly, though his lips twitched into some semblance of a smile. "Seriously, that was the best joke of all time."
"I was being serious, though."
"Of course you were."
Darryl grinned, happy to have something to concentrate on other than their current predicament. "I was."
Tapping against the iron door caught his attention a little too quickly, each tiny knock too abrupt to be a coincidence.
"Who's there?" Darryl called, trying his best to keep the shake out of his voice. "Are you bringing the prince back?"
A pause as silence settled across the small room once more. Then, mere moments after, a lock clicked and the iron door swung open, light filtering in from the corridor.
"Yes," Zak said briskly. "I brought myself back."
"Zak!"
Before Darryl could register it, Vincent was across the room, arms around his friend as though they hadn't seen each other in days. Perhaps it was that they hadn't been guaranteed that Zak was safe. Either way, the sight made Darryl smile - some bonds simply couldn't be broken, no matter what tried to sever them.
"Okay, okay," Zak mumbled, letting himself be hugged for a moment before prying Vincent off him. "Listen. I can't explain much now, but we have to go."
Darryl quirked a brow, already reaching down to grab his cloak. "Aren't we supposed to be prisoners?"
"We are. Technically." Zak stops, drawing in a breath. "But I think their forces are more than a little distracted right now."
"Distracted?" This time it's Vincent who cuts in, already two steps out of the door and peering down the long corridor with an almost wary look on his face. "By what?"
Zak's words came out clipped. "Unimportant. Come on."
Without even giving them a chance to protest (and really, why would they?) he turned and strode off down the hall, seemingly careless, though Darryl was beginning to be able to read the prince well and could recognise the stiffness of his gait, a clear indicator of nerves and a suggestion that Zak was more on-edge than he allowed the others to believe he was.
Eyes narrowing a fraction, Darryl followed after the prince, making sure to stay aware of his surroundings. Oddly enough, they encountered no resistance on their way out, not even the girl from before. It was as though in a matter of hours the base had been evacuated and left desolate and abandoned. Zak lead them through what felt like corridor after corridor, passing several rooms that were tightly locked and, though Darryl itched to look inside, he forced himself to keep walking until they reached a steep incline.
Without saying a word, Zak started up, Vincent following and Darryl bringing up the rear, blinking rapidly as they emerged into bright sunlight. So it had been at least a day down there.
"So, do you plan on telling us how exactly you got out?" Darryl questioned after a moment, tone softening. At least Zak appeared relatively uninjured. The bandage on his arm even looked freshly changed. "And what you meant by distracted?"
Zak paused for a moment, and Darryl watched as the prince bit down on his lower lip in thought. Then, as though reaching some inner conclusion, Zak gestured toward both Darryl and Vincent.
"They're distracted because they have bigger targets than us. We were simply convenient to them. In the wrong place at the wrong time, if you'll believe that."
Darryl didn't, but perhaps Zak was right and nobody had set them up. Maybe the rebels just happened to be prepared for the worst at all times. It wouldn't surprise him.
"I slipped away while they were distracted," Zak shrugged, as though it had been no big deal. "They didn't seem to notice, you know? Attacking the palace seems like a pretty distracting thing to be doing."
Attacking the palace. Darryl could have sworn his heart almost stopped. The way Zak had said it was simple at best, but Darryl was sure he'd heard it right.
"Attacking the - what?" Darryl stammered, usual way with words fading in shock. "Oh my goodness. We have to get back. Right now."
Beside him, Darryl could see Vincent nod in agreement, and watched as Zak relaxed just a little bit, giving his own curt nod in their direction.
"So let's go," Zak said quietly, and the grin from earlier had been completely wiped off his face. "And hope no major damage has been done by the time we get there."
"Did you get the cure you needed? For the poison? Or any information on the rebels?" Darryl found himself asking, "You were with them. You must have heard something!"
Silence. Then the sound of leaves crunching underfoot as Zak turned, walking off in the direction of the kingdom grounds as though he hadn't heard Darryl speak at all.