Rest In Pieces

26

Airo

Airo's head hurt.

He forced his eyes open and was met with darkness. He blinked, sat up and felt around for where he might be. His hand curled around bars and he began to curse.

"James," he murmured, forcing his eyes to adjust. Where the hell was he?

Airo felt a hand on his, and looked up. James was in the cell adjacent to him, and he looked awful.

"Oh," Airo whispered, inching as close as he could, taking James' hands in his own. "It's okay," Airo soothed. James shook his head slightly. His brown eyes were wide with fear.

"I do not know how long I will last in here."

His previous incarceration lasted years, Airo remembered. He must have been going out of his mind.

Airo knew what that felt like. Lungs filling. Vision spotting. Walls caving in. His memories of war rose to the surface in the form of nightmares, and he imagined James must have been feeling somewhat like that.

Airo looked around, seeing the rest of the group in the cells surrounding him. Almost.

"Where is Xadezhda?" he demanded.

Silence.

"They took her," Malakhai murmured. He was seated casually and staring at the floor. Airo could barely make him out in the dim lighting.

Was he... twiddling his thumbs?

"What do you mean, they took her?"

"They'll kill her," he said softly, and Airo noticed his obsidian eyes.

Could an Arcane break out of this jail?

He heard... chanting. Airo listened, turned his ear to the dirty window and ordered silence. Quiet washed over the cell block. His eyes shot open.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Airo began to rattle on the bars, waking everyone who was not already awake. He didn't care.

"Oi!" he hollered. "Excuse me!"

"Airo, what the hell?" Finley hissed.

"They're killing her," he seethed.

"I'm working on it," Malakhai muttered. Airo squinted at him. What the hell was he doing? "They don't like me in here."

"What does that mean?" Airo spat.

"Patience, Your Majesty," Malakhai taunted. "It means my transition will be a bit slower, that's all." His eyes cleared, flooded, cleared again. He cursed.

Talons grew from his nail beds, and he used them to pick the lock. Or, tried. Airo rolled his eyes at his failure. What good was the Arcane if not for a jailbreak? His best friend was dying, damnit.

James' hand found his again, and Airo was torn. James needed him. Xadezhda needed him.

His held James' face between his hands. "Listen to me," Airo breathed. "We have to save Xadya and then I promise you can fall apart, love, can you do that for me?"

James took a slow, shaky breath. He nodded.

A loud crash. Malakhai broke open the door to his cell.

"Finally," Airo muttered.

Malakhai took off without them.

"Hey!" he roared, but the Arcane was already gone.