Blueprint

7: Beneath the Frame

Synelis didn't know how long it had been since he'd first broken in to the castle, and he didn't know how long it would be until he got the chance to leave. At that moment, he was under Inventor Alantar's bed, rolling two vials of poison between his fingers.

He considered poisoning Alantar - not fatally, just enough to make him sleep for a long while - but it seemed unnecessary. Alantar was amicable enough, and Synelis would've felt bad. He'd had an eventful enough night. Still, he rolled the glass vials back and forth, their cool surfaces calming him somewhat.

Synelis realized he was hungry after a few long, dragging minutes of silence, and recalled that the last meal he'd had was breakfast that morning. It was a stupid decision; he'd skipped lunch in the hopes that he wouldn't make himself nauseous when he made his way across the city, but all he'd succeeded in was making himself terribly, painfully hungry. The subsiding adrenaline rush didn't help, either; he could feel the bruises he'd sustained while hiding from the captain of the guard, and his muscles ached in a terribly dull fashion after all the exercising he'd done. He felt beat, and yet, he was far too awake to fall asleep.

"Alantar," Synelis hummed after a moment, "do you have any food in here?"

He was met with silence in response. Alantar must've fallen asleep.

Synelis carefully lifted the bed skirt, sliding himself out into the open with his poison still rolling between his fingers. It was dark in there, even for his adjusted eyes, and the only sound that remained was the slow, quiet strumming of a music box left on the desk. He set his hand atop a bedpost, looking around the room. Although most details were lost on him in the dark, he did notice that the desk was lined with little shelves, each housing a different, intricately carved little box. He allowed his curiosity to get the best of him and wandered over to the desk, plucking one box up and opening it.

Inside he found a small golden comb, surrounded by miniature gears and a small painting of a flower on top. He closed the box and turned it over in his hands, finding a signature carved in the back: A. Alantar

He made a small noise of surprise and set the box back down. He didn't expect the inventor, who seemed to occupy himself with large projects and desperately important things, to spend any of his time making a tiny little music boxes. But everyone needed a hobby, he supposed.

He then picked up the music box that was slowly winding down and wound it a few more times. It bustled back to life, its melancholy pace quickening into a delightful little melody.

"Amari Alantar!"

Synelis jumped - as did his heart - at the sudden yelling. He nearly dropped the music box, tossing it side to side before managing to clumsily set it back on the desk. He dove for the bed, barely able to see Alantar yawning before he'd covered himself again with the bed skirt.

"Amari! Open this goddamn door!"

"Ok, ok!" Amari called, the voice muffled when it came through the mattress. "I'm coming!"

Synelis' head lulled to the side, and from the bottom of the skirt he could see Amari's black stockings meet the floor. Synelis felt panic seep into himself, felt his heart leap into his throat and pound against his Adam's apple. He could hardly breathe.

"What, Astrid?" He heard Amari ask, followed by the sound of a smack. Synelis carefully laid his hands over his own mouth. "Hey! What was that for?"

"What was that for? Amari, you were held hostage not even two hours ago, and now you're sitting in your room like nothing happened! You could've at least let me know you were fine, yeah?"

"I'm sorry, Astrid, I thought it could wait until tomorrow—"

"Wait," the woman's voice hissed. She was the captain of the guard from earlier, as far as Synelis could tell. "Amari, who bandaged your neck?"

"I did," Amari clucked, "obviously. Who else?"

"Why'd you secure them at the back? Why not the side? Wouldn't that be unnecessary?"

"I," Amari began, and Synelis shut his eyes tightly, "That's — well, I can't say I was thinking particularly much about it. That's just where the end of the bandages landed."

Synelis almost wished there was an uncomfortable silence, but instead it was filled with cheerful ticking from that music box. He gulped softly, clenching the hand that didn't lay over his own mouth.

"...Okay." The captain of the guard clucked, and Synelis had to hold in his sigh of relief, "but what of the music box? Your light's off and I heard you get out of bed, and yet, somehow, I heard the music box hit the desk."

"Are you suggesting something, Captain Vuric?" Amari asked, Synelis unable to tell what he was getting at.

There were a few more king moments, filled only by the sound of the music box, before a yelp met Synelis' ears.

"I know he's somewhere," the woman hissed, "And, Amari, I don't know why you won't tell me where, but I will find him. I know you're not one of his little illusions. I can feel you."

"Hell, Astrid! Put me down! Imagine if Princess Jharvelle saw you right now! I'm just trying to get some sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow, but I've had a rather rough night and I think - I think -"

"Fine!" The woman screeched.

Synelis' eyes went wide as the slats under the bed became distressed and bent towards him. He moved his hands, sucking in a quick breath and shielding himself just as the bed bent back into shape. Amari must've been thrown into the mattress.

"But, mark my words, Alantar," the woman continued, "you will not be pleased with the outcome, should I find that you're only stalling because that high elf made you. You know that I can protect you from him. You've got no reason to hide him."

"I'm not hiding him," Amari mumbled, but the door soon slammed.

Synelis groaned ever so quietly, pressing his head back against the floor. His heart still hadn't calmed, and his thoughts still raced at a million miles an hour, but at least he was somewhat safer.

How had this job gone so terribly wrong?

Synelis had been caught before, sure. He'd been chased out of cities, he'd been tossed out of windows; hell, he'd nearly lost his arm to a certain security system in one Lord's home. But never, not once, had he been forced to hide under his targets bed while the royal guard searched for him.

He was damned at that point. He had a target on his back, a target that the captain of the guard herself was aiming for, and he had to rely on the pity of Inventor Alantar to survive. He hated being in such a compromising situation.

But - very sadly for Synelis - if he wanted to live, he hadn't any other choice.

So, as the second adrenaline rush of that evening began to subside, he felt hunger creep back into his gut, felt pain creep back into his muscles, and felt dread creep back into the forefront of his mind. He had to make a plan. He didn't know what plan, yet, but he would have one, and he would escape with his life.