by Deiri Di
So the creature didn't know about the shortcut.
"I am just happy to know where he is," Mari lied, rising to her feet.
Shapeshifters, the Gina'lathi, could easily assume a form faster than a human. If it knew what she was going to do, it could keep her from it. Luckily for her, they were racist. Humans were too stupid to be deceptive. Hopefully, for her, this Gina'lathi didn't have any real experience with humans to tell her otherwise.
"What is..." Mari said, trying to look confused. "What is that sound?"
"What sound?" the Gina'lathi said, looking around. "I don't hear anything."
"It sounds like... like bones crushing," Mari tried to sound afraid. "It's so horrible!"
"Where is it coming from!" the Gina'lathi said, dropping to a crouch.
There was a type of monster Mari had read about. It was relatively slow and not very good about chasing its victims. Instead, it made its victims hear horrible sounds coming towards them in the direction opposite from where it hid. They would run right to it.
"I'm so scared!" Mari yelled, attempting hysteria. "I don't have any weapons! What is that sound!"
"Where is it coming from!" the Gina'lathi demanded, still looking around.
Mari buried her face in her hands and proceeded to fake sob.
The shapeshifter pressed a dagger into her hands. "There! Now, where is it coming from?"
Mari didn't need the weapon for the Gina'lathi. There was no way she could defeat a shapeshifter like that; a trained fighter like Chase might be able to, but not her.
"Over there!" Mari said, pointing across the pond.
"Stay here! Don't move!" the bodyguard said, running in the opposite direction. It was the right move if there had been a monster. If you didn't kill them, they slowly upped the volume of the noises they were making, driving the victim with pain as well as fear.
Mari, of course, did move.
She did exactly what no sane person would do. She dove into the water.
She began to swim, looking for the tunnel. It should be along one side, near the bottom - she just didn't know which side.
An icy hand closed around her ankle.
Mari twisted in the water to find the merman's hand on her foot, his carnivore teeth winking at her in the water filtered sunlight.
She pulled her knee up to her chest, dragging herself closer to him. She whipped the knife around, holding it above his chest, her fist clenching.
"Take me to the dungeon, and I'll give you the knife," she attempted to say, the water obscuring her words.
The merman could easily kill her and then take the knife, but she hoped that he wouldn't. The books said that they had some semblance of honor, especially when it came to deals involving shiny things. This particular merman only tried to kill her before because she made the mistake of accepting its invitation. That gave her hope that he would be a stereotypical example of his species.
The merman released her ankle and wrapped his hand around the wrist that was holding the knife. Now she couldn't even defend herself if he decided to drown her.
He flexed his tail and began dragging her through the water.
The need to breathe weighed on Mari's mind, her chest tightening.
She couldn't see anything.
They were moving too fast.
For all she knew, they could be swimming in circles, waiting for her to drown.
Then it was dark.
There were spots in front of her eyes, slowly growing as her lungs demanded she feed them.
Icy hands wrapped around her waist and lifted her.
Her head broke into fresh, beautiful air.
Mari took a deep breath.
She was in a cave. The pool of water was along a path that led through the cave. At one end of the path was the entrance to a hallway that matched the castle's architecture. At the other end was a goblin sitting at a desk in front of a metal gate. The cave itself was lit by a thin layer of glowing green that covered the walls. It looked moist, like radioactive moss or nuclear waste.
Mari put her hands on the water's edge and tried to pull herself out. The merman did not let go. When she looked down at him, he gave her another unnerving smile.
Mari flipped the dagger in her hand, holding it handle first.
The merman released her, took the dagger, and vanished.
Mari got out of the water and shivering, walked over to the goblin guard. On the desk in front of him was a ring of keys.
"Thissss is the Prince'sss human," the goblin said. His mouth moved as if it was difficult for him to form the words with his wide jaw and pointed teeth.
"Yes," Mari said. "I'm here on the Prince's orders - I need to get in there." She pointed to the door made of metal bars, the only other exit to the room.
"Can not let you," the goblin said. "No inssss-insss...." He paused, his forked tongue flicking out as his face twisted in concentration. "Inssstructionssss."
Mari drew herself up. She was taller than the mutilated goblin by only a few inches, but she made use of every centimeter of it.
"The Prince's brother is in here for failing to protect me. What do you think he is going to do to you, a creature that isn't even allowed to grace the tables or the dances of the court? What do you think he is going to do to you if you upset me?" she said, spitting her words out.
The goblin's face filled with fear as he thought that through. Mari knew she hit home. In the court, she had only seen elves. Goblins and the other creatures she only saw in the marketplace, in servitude, and places removed from power. The creature in front of her would never be able to rise to power just because of the race it had been born into, and Mari was using that fact to get what she wanted.
"I check," the goblin said, "I send messenger to Prince. I get permisssssssion."
When Mari nodded, the goblin ran down the slanted hallway, out of sight. It would take him a while to find someone to carry the message. The glowing hallway was long and devoid of foot traffic - no rooms connected to it except for the one they stood in.
Mari waited for a few moments until the goblin had started into the hallway. It wasn't a very good guard - it left the keys on the table.
She grabbed the keys, fitting one after the other into the metal lock of the door until she found the one that turned. She closed it after her, locking it just as the Gina'lathi came running into the cavern, the goblin close on her heels.
"Stop!" the shapeshifter shouted.
Mari ignored her and turned to run into the dungeon.
The light was dimmer. The moss only grew in a few corners, creating small patches of light surrounded by larger spaces of shadow. She heard the sound of the door opening behind her, so she ran without direction through the darkness.
"Chase?" she shouted, her voice echoing ahead of her.
She heard a noise, so she turned at a juncture and followed it.
She came to a cell, not the tiny hole that Lady Silvia had in her prison, but one big enough to be a small closet, the door made out of bars and not wood.
Inside was an emaciated elf, stringy gray hair hanging down from his balding scalp. He wore a dirt-encrusted tattered shirt and nothing else. His reeked.
"Where would they keep the Prince's brother?" she demanded as he gripped the bars, his knuckles covered in scabs.
"The bastard?" the prisoner asked.
"Yes, the bastard. Where is he?" she heard the sound of moans echoing through the prison but couldn't tell where they were coming from.
"They would have the bastard in pain," the prisoner replied, licking his lips. "Let me out, and I will tell you how to get there."
"Tell me, and I will let you out," Mari said.
The prisoner pointed with one bony arm. "Back the way you came," he said. "Turn right as soon as you can, then left, then right again. Take forty-two paces, and it is the door that moans."
"Thank you," Mari said, fumbling with the keys. She found the one that fit and unlocked the cell's door, pulling it open for the w
eak elf.
As she turned to follow the directions, a pale arm wrapped around her neck.
"Hostage!" the prisoner said, giggling in her ear, his rank breath on her face.
Mari took her elbow and drove it down and back. It collided with flesh, and the elven prisoner doubled over, too weak to withstand the light blow.
Mari grabbed him by the hair and spun him around.
She planted a slippered foot against his bony chest and kicked him back into his cell.
She shut the door, locking it behind him.
She turned and ran down the hallway, following his instructions and ignoring his shouts behind her. She felt terrible for leaving the deteriorated shell of a man locked up like that, but she couldn't have his insanity interfering with her. She would let them all out of this third world prison if she could, but all it would do was antagonize the royal family. If she had any hope of figuring out this mess, it wouldn't be by starting a prison riot.
She came to a wooden door where the prisoner said she would and put her hand on the round metal handle. The door moaned with the voices of hundreds of people, and the wood writhed with shapes. She didn't look at it. She didn't want to see what was trapped in the door.
In the center of the room Chase was illuminated. He hung there, his arms suspended above him by glowing blue bands that encircled his wrists. His feet were pulled out to the side, several inches off the ground, held by the same blue bands. There was nothing attached to the blue restraints, so it looked as if Chase was hanging midair, supported by nothing but air. A cloth-covered him from the hips to the knees, but aside from that, he wore nothing. His head hung forward, and he slumped against his restraints.
Mari saw the same thin marks on his chest that she saw days before, beautiful lines that curved, accentuating the play of his muscles. There were fresh lines, delicate red cuts that extended the design, adding to it. Those lines she admired on his skin were scars, evidence of torture, and proof that someone thought art and pain could be the same. She stepped into the room, trying not to see the trays of cutting instruments sitting on the tables or the devices pushed to the corner to make room for his suspension.
A gasp forced its way out of her mouth as she moved closer to him, seeing the full extent of the damage. There were half-healed cuts on his shoulders.
Chase lifted his head, his dark hair framing his face. His eyes caught hers.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
She stepped closer to him. Her eyes were full of tears, and she didn't want to blink or risk losing them. Some of the cuts were light scratches. Others were wide and deep, designed to leave thick, solid lines. "Why would they do this to you?" she asked, her voice catching in her throat.
"I rescued you," he said.
"What?" Mari asked. She reached out and traced one of the healed scars that ran along his abdomen. They were beautiful and horrible.
"The Prince was going to rescue you," Chase said. He winced as her fingers brushed too close to one of the new cuts. "I overstepped my... I couldn't... I didn't know what she was going to do to you. I couldn't just..." He looked down at her. "You should go back to your room before they catch you here. My punishment is almost over."
"They shouldn't punish you at all!" Mari said, pulling her hand back to look up at him.
No, everything the Prince did was right, was okay.
The Prince couldn't know about this.
"Mari," Chase said her name like the very word was a new cut. "It is okay. I knew what would happen when I came to get you, and I was prepared for it. Please... I just... I just want you to leave." The tenderness vanished from his face, killed by his sudden awareness of it, and his voice grew harsh, almost angry. "Get out of here. I don't want you here!"
Mari glared at him. "You're an idiot!" she said, the storm of real emotion trapped inside her turning her tears into anger. "You're an idiot to think that I would just leave you like this when it is because of me you're here."
Mari looked at the bonds that held him. There was nothing in medieval science that could hold someone suspended like that.
She reached up, standing on the tips of her toes. She couldn't reach his wrists.
She walked over to the edge of the room, grabbing a chair that had been pushed against the wall. Mari dragged the chair over to him, positioning it under his outstretched arm. She stood on it.
Now able to reach his wrist, she put her hand on the glowing blue that restrained him. Her hand passed through it without resistance. She wrapped both of her hands around his wrist, covering every inch that the restraint covered with her skin.
"What are you doing?" Chase asked, looking up at her.
Mari pulled. Her hands passed through the restraint as if it didn't exist, taking his wrist with them.
"Immune to magic, remember?" she said, pleased with herself.
She repeated the maneuver three more times, freeing Chase.
Mari took his hand in hers, pulling him towards the door. "Let's get you out of here," she said.
He resisted, and even in his weakened state, held his own, preventing them from moving. She looked back at him, their outstretched arms between them joined by clasped hands.
"Why did you come down here?" he asked. His voice was deep, darkened by the same energy that resided in his eyes. "How did you get here?"
His hand was warm in hers, and his eyes burned, creating an empty pit in her chest that grabbed at her voice, threatening to steal it from her. She broke eye contact, looking at the dungeon floor. "I couldn't just leave you down here. What kind of person would I be if I did that?"
"You would be an average person," he replied. "Just one of the many who live at this court. There isn't a single one of them that would risk Royal displeasure."
"They're fools," Mari said, raising her eyes to meet his. She squeezed his hand as she said it. He was a person who grew up in a sharks nest of a court, whose own mother would allow him to be tortured for the slightest mistake of kindness to another. Mari wanted her words to get across to him. She wanted him to understand.
Chase's hand tightened. He took a half step towards her, stopping and hesitating, his mouth opening as if there was something he was trying to say. His face twisted as if he was in pain.
"What is it?" Mari said, reaching out with her free hand to touch him.
Chase dropped her hand and closed the distance between them. He cupped her face in his hands, running his fingers through her hair, fingernails digging into her scalp as he pulled her forward into him.
He leaned down, curving her face upwards. He pressed his lips against hers.
Something broke.
There was no pounding headache, no change of thought, the last remnants of that demanding pressure was gone. There was only Mari, nothing more, nothing less.
Mari could taste the salt of his sweat, and she leaned into him. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers, his bare skin pressing against the thin gown. He brought an arm down, wrapping it around her waist, and held her, hugging her and lifting her to her toes. She parted her lips, bringing her own hands up. She ran her hands along his back.
When her fingers brushed over the open cuts, he gasped, but instead of breaking the kiss, he grazed her lips with his teeth. She brought her hands up to his head, digging her fingers into the thickness of his hair.
The door to the room moaned, the hundreds of voices crying with a pain that broke through the passion in their kiss.
Chase broke away from her, breathing hard as he staggered backward.
The door opened.
Prince Vladmir stood there, his hand on the ring of the door.
"What are you-" he started to say, anger in his voice.
"What are you doing?" Mari shouted, interrupting him. She had to do something with the energy that was pent up inside of her. She was confused, and having the man she was so certain was her true love interrupting a thought scattering moment only made things worse. "Why would you allow your brother to be tortur
ed? Why would you replace the bodyguard who saved my life and reward him like this?"
"His carelessness led to your capture," the Prince said, his voice contained, his words chosen with care. "I love you, Mari. I couldn't let my own brother get away with endangering you like that." He stepped forward and took her hand. It was sticky with blood.
Mari wasn't sure who to believe. Chase said that he was being punished for coming to get her in the first place. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't believe the Prince's word over his.
"When I was abducted, they said that when you came to rescue me, they would make sure that I died in the attempt. They were going to make it look like it was the rescue's fault for my slaughter. If Chase hadn't come to get my first, I would be dead." Mari looked over at Chase as she spoke. He was leaning against one of the tables. Some of the cuts along his body had started bleeding again. "He is the reason I am here now. I want him back as my bodyguard."
The Prince followed her gaze, looking at his brother. His eyes tightened, and he pressed his lips together, glancing down at Mari's dress. It was mussed with streaks of Chase's blood. Mari's heart pounded.
"He brought me back to you," she said, lowering her voice and squeezing the Prince's hand. The words felt wrong.
The Prince smiled at her, the tightness gone from his face. He raised her hand and placed a kiss on it.
"You are right, my love," he said. "But we'll keep the second bodyguard to give him a hand, alright? I must keep you safe."
Mari nodded, smiling at him. Inside she was upset. She knew what she was supposed to feel. She should love the Prince and be happy that he was with her, be mad at Chase for kissing her, and be grateful for the extra protection. Instead, she was mad at the Prince and upset that there would be another person interrupting her time with Chase.
The Prince turned and started to lead her from the room. Mari's mind was full of confusion as she tried to come to terms with the discrepancies between what she thought she should feel and what she felt.
"You're under a love spell!" Chase shouted.
The Prince's hand clenched her, his fingers digging into her palm.
Mari stared at Chase. There was frustration and anger on his face as he stood in the dungeon.