Part Ten
"Alright. When you see it get red hot, try it."
"You really think this is gonna work?"
"I can't watch him suffer in there anymore Trevor. We have to get him out. This can't continue."
"You saw what happened when we pulled his leg out, the spell won't let his body leave the cage. Opening the bars isn't going to do fuckall."
"I have to try something. If you can't figure out how to open the stupid thing then this is my only other idea. What kind of trap cannot be released? What kind of idiots were your relatives?"
"I just can't find the fucking instructions. They are probably hidden somewhere, but nobody ever told me. I didn't even know this stupid cock-sucking trap existed or I never would have made him come down here in the first place. This place is huge Sypha. Who knows who even set the trap up? It's probably been here for decades, maybe even centuries."
"I'm opening it now." Sypha's voice left no room for argument. Her determination was plain in her tone.
Adrian slowly blinked his eyes open and the familiar scene of his prison came into view. He was still laying curled on his side, but someone had been kind enough to pull the blanket over him at least. He saw Trevor and Sypha outside, near the far wall of the cage. Trevor was holding a large metal bar and Sypha had her hands poised to perform magic. She raised her hands with the pinkie and index fingers pointing outwards and fire sprang to life at her behest, encircling one of the bars. Here face was set, her brows making a slight crease in the middle as she focused. Trevor hopped out of the way as the flames increased in size until they engulfed the bar entirely, the shadows dancing around them, glinting in her eyes. When she performed magic it was as if everything else dropped away and it was just her and the energy bowing under her intense will. Adrian could feel the heat wash over him in a wave; she was using a very high concentration of fire for such a small object. After several seconds of sustained heat the bar turned bright orange. She released the spell and stepped back and Trevor jammed the pry in between the heated bar and the one beside it, experimentally shoving with his weight to try and bend it open. At first nothing happened and Sypha looked dismayed, but Trevor summoned more strength from within and squatted a bit, giving himself more leverage. Teeth grit, lips pulled back in strain, his chest, arms and back rippled as he engaged all his muscles to force the iron to give way. With a groan, the bar submitted to his force, slowly bending to the side until it hit the next one beside it. He did not stop there, adjusting his tool and torquing the iron outwards as well, until it overlapped the bar beside it to create the widest possible aperture. Now the space which had only been large enough for a man's arm was double the width, at least large enough for a man's head to fit through.
This was a very interesting development. Adrian sat up and Trevor and Sypha turned to look at him.
"That looks promising," he said in encouragement. He felt better after some rest – the agony from a few hours before was gone, his body back to where it had been before the terrifying experience of the containment spell had been unleashed on it. Trevor gave him a wide smile, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort and the heat of Sypha's fire spell. He let the metal bar dangle from his hand, stepping back to admire his handiwork.
"You can thank her, this was all Sypha's idea."
This was good, this was a positive development. Even if Adrian couldn't leave the cage, it would be very nice if they could enter it. He missed being close to them. He just wanted to touch them so badly, to feel something other than pain. He was nearly fantasizing about getting clean as well, and a simple bucket of water to wash with would be a Godsend.
Sypha summoned ice to her fingertips, using it to cool the hot bar. Steam erupted from the metal the instant the ice made contact. When it was cool enough to touch she began to use her fire again to heat up the bar on the other side of the one they had just bent. As before, she waited until it was red hot then she released the spell and stepped out of the way so Trevor could work on it. Adrian watched appreciatively as the hunter engaged his whole body once more, teeth flashing, a grunt of effort escaping him as he used his strength to force the bar away. He had less leverage this time, but he still managed to force the metal to submit to the pry, bending the thick iron until there was a decent sized opening between the two damaged pieces. He threw down the tool with a loud clang, leaning on a nearby section of the cage to catch his breath.
Sypha repeated the ice spell once more and cooled the metal. It was done. There was an opening big enough for a person to pass through in the side of the cage. She beamed and glanced at Trevor triumphantly. "I told you I could do it," she boasted, moving towards the opening and popping her head in.
The hunter was still panting slightly, his chest and forehead glistening with sweat in the light of the lanterns. Adrian could hear his heart hammering away at an accelerated pace. "Oh yeah, you did it all by yourself Syph," he joked, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. She shot him a smug look and returned her focus to the cage.
As Sypha began to squeeze though the hole they had made Adrian became aware of the state of the cage itself, and his body. It was filthy. He stared, dismayed, at the remains of his clothes and the rabbit, and then down at himself, still coated in his own blood and other even less pleasant substances.
"Sypha you can't come in here yet, I need to wash all of this away. Would you be able to bring some water?"
"I don't care about that," she brushed off his concerns and climbed through the opening between the bars. For a woman who had been almost afraid to look at him a few hours ago she had become remarkably bold. Was it possible that she could so easily overlook everything that had happened – his wasting body, the injuries, all of it? Could she so easily brush those things away? He was suddenly reminded of a promise he had made. He had said he would never doubt her. He had to be careful not to underestimate her because she was always proving that she was more than she appeared.
She dropped to her knees beside him and paused, her eyes lingering on his hair, no doubt observing the horrid patchiness and the bluish translucence of the flesh of his scalp. He could only guess what he looked like up close. Like a living corpse, more or less. Was she really willing to touch him? Her hand extended gingerly, either afraid of hurting him or afraid of what it was going to feel like under her fingers. There was suddenly an awkwardness between them which hadn't existed before. He wanted to lean into her hand, to close the gap between them, but he needed to let her initiate it. She had to choose if she was willing to be this close to him or not. As she sat before him her scent filled his senses, her soft pinkness and the cupid's bow of her lips so beautiful that he wanted to lean in and kiss her, but he didn't dare. The drum of her heart was deafening, the organ running overtime as she stared into his face. She gingerly extended a hand. He didn't miss the hesitance; he could see that she struggled to reconcile what her eyes were seeing and what her mind knew to be true.
Finally her resolve came to the fore and she laid her warm fingers on his cheek, her palm hot, soft, she smelled so good. Her hand traced over his disfigured flesh slowly. She couldn't fully hide her reaction. He could see that it felt wrong to her, cold and powdery, nothing like the body she had explored so eagerly less than a week past. She did not pull away. She was determined to… he didn't know what. Convince herself that it was really him? Convince him that she was really ok with it? Maybe both. He closed his eyes at the pleasure of her touch, a sigh on his lips. Her hand ran carefully along his face, trying to avoid his numerous wounds. She stroked his cheek with her thumb.
"Adrian," she said softly, leaning a bit closer. He hated the tone in her voice – pity. Like she was petting an injured animal. He tried very hard not to show that feeling because he needed her hand on him, he needed the contact. He wanted to touch her but he was afraid he would scare her or make her pull away and he didn't know if he could take that at the moment. He sat up straight and allowed her continued exploration, but there was a disturbing scent which he was becoming more aware of. He frowned, pulling his face away and catching her wrist quickly in his fingers. He turned her arm so her pale flesh was exposed, careful not to let his claws dig into her skin. The injury from a few nights ago had scabbed over but he could smell her blood just beneath the damaged surface. He stared at it in surprise for a moment as she tried to free her arm from his grasp with obvious and mounting discomfort. He knew his eyes were reddening now and his already parched throat seemed to spasm at the prospect of actual fresh blood. He very deliberately swallowed the saliva that filled his mouth and released her arm, looking away at the floor to try and compose himself. Hunger tore at him, it ripped and twisted like something alive in his guts. She quickly realized what was happening and backed away slowly, her expression wary. He had already scared her and she had only been in the cage with him for a minute.
"Its alright," he said softly. He was starving, yes, but he was still himself. He would never harm her. She had to know that; he needed her to understand that. He needed it to be true for his own sanity as well, and perhaps for his dignity, which was hanging by a thread. He was still better than an animal despite how difficult it was becoming to tell the difference. A few more days like this, however, and he had to wonder if he would still be able to maintain his control.
She pulled her sleeve down over the injury and tugged his hand into her lap instead. It was one of the few parts of his body which was not injured and she was able to explore it more easily. Her warm fingers squeezed his palm, massaging gently and working along his fingers, over the bumps of the joints, down to the pads of his fingertips. She explored the clawed nails with obvious curiosity. He was amazed that she was so bold, and that she didn't shrink away even after his body had betrayed him so easily. Her touch was firm and confident, she was not meek or outwardly frightened. She studied the pink stains that coloured his digits – blood remaining from all the things that had transpired recently – and she glanced at Trevor just outside of the cage.
"We need some water, can you get a bucket?"
Trevor had been watching everything that transpired very closely. He was obviously wary of leaving her unattended. He didn't trust that Adrian would be able to control his thirst, no matter how much they had shared together. Adrian was mildly insulted, but he had to be reasonable as well. He understood Trevor's concerns. They had all watched him work past his obvious hunger only a second ago. He couldn't pretend he wasn't thinking about her blood, but he hoped he had demonstrated that he wasn't some crazed monster that was going to leap on her and devour her. It probably helped that he was heavily debilitated and trapped in a magical cage that reduced him to a limp doll by mere proximity. Whatever Trevor's reasons, he was willing to leave them alone together long enough to get water from the well several floors down. His footsteps echoed through the cavern.
When Trevor was out of the immediate vicinity Sypha turned her clear blue eyes on Adrian and leaned closer, still holding his hand. "You said before that you needed blood to heal. It freaks me out a bit, but I want you to get better. I will give you some of mine if it would help."
Adrian suddenly wished that Trevor hadn't left them alone. Damn Sypha for waiting until he was gone to say this. It was so much harder to refuse when she was sitting right in front of him with her heart drumming loudly. It would be easier if Trevor just shut her down completely like before. He pulled his hand free of hers, even as the red intensified in his eyes and his fangs throbbed at the thought of sinking into an actual living thing. Control be damned; he had to work hard to refuse her. If he opened the floodgates now he was not certain he could stop. He hadn't had human blood in around ten years and just the idea of it made him shiver bodily. She couldn't understand what she was asking for; she was only saying it because she didn't want to see him like this. She wanted to help, she wanted to do what she could, but if he were to actually accept he was sure they would both regret it. Even if he allowed himself to consider the possibility (and he didn't), he had decided long ago that he would not feed from any human. A willing donor was a rare and most unusual thing, but this was simply not the time or place, and he had no intention of caving in so easily.
"No Sypha, I cannot do that. I would never hurt you," he made sure to keep his tone carefully even, and he allowed himself to meet her eyes, to let her see the intensifying hunger in his own in hopes that she would realize how difficult it was for him to refuse her. She had to possess some natural instinct for self preservation. Surely she would understand.
"Would it hurt me that much?" she asked, scooting a little closer. How preposterous that she was barely willing to touch him a few minutes ago and now she would propose that he tear into her like so much meat. He swallowed again, trying not to think about tearing into things. This wave of hunger would pass – he just had to distract himself.
"It doesn't matter. I don't drink human blood. Please don't ask again. Soon enough we will get this cage open and then I will find something more suitable."
Sypha nodded, some mixture of relief and dismay on her features. He believed the latter was because she wanted to help him, but he could see that she was scared as well. Good. She needed to understand that this was not a game. He was grateful to hear Trevor's steps getting nearer. His eyes flicked over as the messy head of brown hair came into view, arms laden with two water buckets. Sypha went to the opening in the cage as Trevor passed one of the buckets in. Sypha brought the bucket to Adrian and Trevor tossed a rag in. She knelt beside him and dipped the cloth in the water, trying to approach him with it.
Adrian stiffened. "I can wash myself." He was not going to be sponge bathed like an invalid. He pulled the cloth from her fingers and began by cleaning his hands, working the red stains free, scraping the blood from under his nails with the tip of one claw. The water was already turning pale pink. Sypha obviously wanted to help, but he couldn't accept it. He had essentially sacrificed all of his dignity in recent days and had been unable to do much of anything for himself the entire time. It was so incredibly humiliating to be in this situation. He would do the few things he could do alone.
After a concerted effort with the limited materials Adrian was able to finally clean some of the gore from himself. It felt much better to have a clean face and hands. The distraction prove effective and the gnawing flare of starvation was not as intense. Sypha was unwilling to give him space, however. She sat right at his side and he could see her hands twitching with the desire to do something, to help in some way. She seemed to be getting used to him, she wasn't so apprehensive about touching him now. Trevor was less inclined, still sitting outside of the cage and switching out the bucket after a few minutes. He had been uncharacteristically serious and quiet through this whole process. Perhaps it was because of witnessing him tear up the rabbit, perhaps it was something else, but he seemed unwilling to approach now that it was actually possible. Adrian tried not to let it bother him.
"Sypha can you help me with my back?" he asked her and she smiled brightly at the opportunity to do something.
"Of course," she picked up the cloth and knelt behind him, pushing his hair out of the way gingerly. He sincerely hoped no more of it fell out. It was disgusting. Adrian had always liked his pretty blonde hair and he had no idea if it would just grow right back or if he was doomed to spend weeks or even months waiting for it to return to normal. He was scared to find out the answer.
There was a small flash of magic behind him, and when Sypha put the cloth to his shoulders the water was wonderfully warm. He sighed, relaxing muscles that he hadn't realized were tensed. She worked carefully, patiently, dabbing around the wounds, her fingers running along his flesh gently. He had never been attended to this way in his life except as a very small child by his mother, and that was an entirely different context. Sypha was growing bolder as she began to explore him, and to get a sense for which areas were still too painful to work around, and where she was able to touch more freely.
As much as Adrian's pride and hunger had pushed him to do this alone, he was quickly succumbing to her fingertips, his eyes falling shut as she moved on from his back, passing the warm cloth over his chest, down his arms, and over the un-splinted leg. She even did his feet, and this was what completely unraveled him, pulled down the walls of fear and tension and made him feel like they were back to the way it had been at the inn, just comfortable with one another as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He felt something breaking in him, it was amazing that she would do this, would treat him this way. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, determined not to let his fluttering heart burst at the warmth of her acceptance.
After she had done as much as she could Adrian was deemed 'clean' and the buckets were set aside. He expected Sypha to exit the cell but instead she propped herself up against the bars, careful of the distance that the spell could reach, and pulled his head into her lap, tucking the blanket around him. He was already completely pliant beneath her fingertips and he could not refuse her, even though he was truly terrified that some horrific detail of his condition would be the tipping point that had her shrinking away in revulsion. She did not. She was not afraid of him. She was not scared of hurting him now that she knew how to avoid the worst areas.
"You can sleep a bit, if you're tired," she spoke softly, looking down at his face in her lap with a warm smile. Her fingers were smoothing over his cheeks, over his forehead, massaging him, stroking lightly over his closed eyelids, and finally she moved them to his scalp, sinking through the thinned mess of his hair, massaging with confident motions. He wanted to push her hand away because he was so scared by the possibility that more of his hair would fall out but he couldn't bring himself to deny her. He would take anything she would give. The pleasure of her hands was incredible. He felt safe and warm and the softness of her body under his sore head was divine.
"I've slept enough for now, maybe we could look through some of the books you were talking about?" He very much wanted to stay close to her now that he was more relaxed, and being clean was so refreshing that he felt a renewed bit of strength. He might be able to actually focus on reading something for a little while.
"Alright," she obliged, but she didn't take her hands off of him and he made no move to stop her from continuing to unravel him. Her fingers explored his scalp, massaging gentle circles, then they worked down along his ears, over the lobes and along the cartilage, tracing her fingers over the pointed tips. She gently pinched them between her thumb and forefingers, causing him to moan softly in pleasure. Her slow breathing was lulling him, the caresses to his hair and ears pulling him away from this awful cage, giving him a few minutes of escape from the cruel reality of his condition. Nothing eased the fire still running in his veins, but it made him forget it for a brief time.
She worked her hands down from his ears, over the muscles of his jaw. Her digits deftly pressed and rubbed along the large muscle responsible for clenching the jaws together. His mouth fell open slightly as she worked the muscles, calming him, taking away the pain and stress. Then she was leaning over him and pressing her lips to his forehead, over his closed eyes, on the tip of his nose. He had deep furrows over the lower part of his face from tearing at himself still, but they were starting to shrink ever so slightly. She kissed over one slice which ran from his cheek down his jaw to his throat, connecting into the still raw and angry wound there. He gasped at the sensation of her lips over the lacerated flesh, but she had been most gentle and it didn't hurt. She was leaning over him, slowly moving closer to his mouth. Was she actually going to try and kiss him? He blinked up at her, meeting her eyes. She was open to him, hiding nothing. Her hands slid over his chest, over his heart, continuing her slow relaxation of his body. His breath caught as she ran her hand along his ribs, his muscles tensing. She pulled back, peering at him with concern.
"Did I hurt you?" she asked.
"No, it feels good," he answered, but he was still pushing her hands gently off him. He felt so defenseless like this, it was disconcerting to be so weakened and exposed and somehow her touch over his torso increased the sensation of vulnerability. It was instinctual to want to hide that, even from trusted allies. She looked a little hurt but accepted his wishes, removing her hands.
"I'm going to get some of those books, I'll be right back."
She eased his head from her lap, pulling off her outer robe and bundling it up, tucking it under his head like a pillow. Her bare shoulders peeked out over the top of her black arm sleeves, her lean musculature visible without the cover of the outer garment. He followed her movements as she climbed back through the opening in the bars and began to rummage through the considerable pile of books she had collected from around the Hold. His eyes fell on Trevor, who was still watching him with that strange sober expression. They looked at each other quietly for a moment. He didn't know what was stopping the man from approaching him. It wasn't fear, he saw no trace of it and hadn't expected that he would. He had seemed perfectly fine talking to him and touching him through the bars before, but now he could see that there was something bothering him. He didn't know what caused that odd look in his eyes. He didn't understand it.
"Trevor, what's wrong?" he asked finally, after the hunter stared at him for nearly a solid minute.
For a man who typically deflected most things with humour or cynicism he wilted remarkably quickly at the question, his shoulders visibly sagging.
"Well you're looking more and more like death, and we're just fucking sitting here, waiting around. Its been nearly three days. I hate not doing anything. It sucks."
He moved around to the opening in the cage, looking in through the bars as though he was nervous to pass through them. What had gotten into him? Trevor was many things, but quiet and apprehensive were rarely among them. Adrian pushed himself to sit up, wincing at the pain and patted the stones beside him. "Come sit?"
Trevor squeezed in through the small opening and stepped into the middle of the cage, casting his eyes around it with a frown. His gaze settled on the area beside the dhampir but didn't sit down.
"What? I won't bite," Adrian said with a tiny smirk, making sure to flash his teeth a bit. The attempted levity seemed to do the trick and Trevor came and sat on the floor with one leg sticking out and his elbow resting on his bent knee. He considered Adrian for a moment, eyes running over his many injuries and his sunken flesh.
"You have no idea how creepy that is coming from you at the moment."
"I have a bit of an idea," he answered, feeling incredibly relieved at the small barb. Jokes were good. That was normal and anything normal was more than welcome right now when everything was so wildly out of control and decidedly abnormal.
"This is so fucked up," Trevor admitted then, gesturing to the cage around them. "I can't believe I made you come down here and the fucking place was booby trapped. I thought coming here was going to help solve our problems, not make things worse."
Adrian understood Trevor's behaviour now. He was feeling guilty. As much as he wanted to console the Belmont heir he sort of didn't mind making him squirm a little. Not because he was cruel, or angry, but because it might actually make Trevor feel better if he had to work a bit to earn forgiveness for his perceived failures. Adrian wasn't really mad at him. He knew it was all just terrible luck and that Trevor hadn't consciously done anything to cause these circumstances.
"Well," he began, "I can think of at least two things you could do to show me how sorry you are for getting me staked ten times and poisoned and trapped in this over sized kennel. I mean, if you don't mind, that is."
Trevor was catching on, he wasn't an idiot. He knew Adrian was purposely milking it but he also knew he'd more than earned the right to do so. "And what would that be?"
"First, get me some clean, dry clothes, and see what can be salvaged from those," he pointed one bony clawed finger at the gross heap that was once his finely tailored silk overcoat and his other clothing. "I love that coat and I would really prefer not to see it rotting in a heap."
Trevor glanced at the mass, nodding. "Alright, I think I can manage that. What else?"
"Second, I remember you telling me that you spent quite a lot of time hunting for game when you were younger. Go out and hunt me something to eat. Something large and alive. If I don't get a real meal soon I think I'm going to get a lot less fun and I might have to take Sypha up on her offer." Adrian made sure to keep his tone as sedate as possible. He was partly joking, but he was also very much serious about becoming less fun. He could feel a cold and potentially violent edge that was sharpening within him by the hour.
"You really haven't been very much fun since we got here you know," Trevor shot back deadpan, his shoulders easing. He shifted slightly into a cross-legged position and faced Adrian. He brought a hand to each of his upper arms. His palms were warm and strong and it gave him the same sense he had before, like he was fragile and breakable. He hated that feeling. He wanted to squirm out from the warm grip but he managed to resist the urge and remain in place. He could hear Trevor's strong heartbeat clearly, smell his sweat and his skin as he leaned a bit closer. "I'm sorry I fucked up so bad and that you got hurt because of it." Trevor's voice was low, laden with his guilt. He was trying not to stare at Adrian's injuries, but he was doing a poor job of it.
"I know you are," he answered gently, bringing a hand over one of Trevor's. "Just help me get out of this. I don't want to be stuck in this cage anymore. I am tired, and hungry, and it hurts. Just get me out of here. I… I can't be in this thing anymore. We don't have time for all of this. The horde is coming, maybe they are already up there waiting for us. My father's army is not going to wait for us to sort this out, they will just keep killing people. The longer we stay in here and do nothing the more people are going to die."
Sypha came back through the bars at that moment, a large helping of books in her arms. She set them on the floor and sat down, picking up the one on top of the pile. Trevor lowered his hands from Adrian's arms and rose to his feet, collecting the pile of clothes and tossing it out of the cage. He squeezed back through the opening and Sypha pushed the book she was holding into Adrian's hand.
"This is the book where I found the information about the poison. This language… I am not as familiar with it in written form. Do you know it?"
Adrian accepted the book, opening it and skimming over the various pages. It appeared to be mostly potions, information about different elements and substances which could be derived from plants or minerals. He recognized the language, and remembered learning about these things with his father, sitting together in the extensive castle laboratory and learning how to make salves, balms, and various other things. His heart hurt, looking over the old text – it brought up such fond memories so unexpectedly. He snapped the book shut, a frown knitting his brows. "Yes, I can read this," he said softly.
"Good! I know Chaldaic, but reading it is tricky. Its much easier to speak. Its been a long time since I read anything in that language."
"Where is the page about the poison?" he asked and she took the book back, flipping through it to find the right page. She passed it back to him.
"Here it is. I know these other words, but this one I don't recognize."
He took the large volume, studying the place she indicated, then reading the pages before and after it quickly, just in case there was more information. "I know what you need," he said after spending a few minutes looking it over. "Its the roots and stems of a flowering plant that grows nearby. It says it grows over the family graves. I guess it means the Belmont family graves. This book was written by one of Trevor's ancestors, so it has to be close by. There is a description of it, and it refers to another book with diagrams and drawings for an example. Do you have the other book that was with this one?"
Trevor came back then, with Adrian's pack in his hands. He set it down beside the books and sat back down, curious about what they'd found.
Sypha selected another book from her pile, but the binding was very old, much older than the first book. "This is it, but it looks so different."
"Oh I can explain that," Trevor interjected, "One of my uncles was working on transcribing the older books so that information wouldn't be lost. He regularly copied entire volumes. The first one is a copy, the other one must be an original from the same collection."
Sypha nodded her understanding. "So, then what happens to the original volume once its copied?"
Trevor shrugged. "Beats me. I fucking haaaated being forced to copy books. They used to use it as an 'educational punishment' when we were being shits," he made air quotes as he said it, indicating how seriously he'd taken that particular form of punishment. "They stopped making me do it when they realized that I was skipping parts to get out faster. Then they switched to the belt, which was a little more effective," He grinned guiltily at that.
"Yes I suppose they would have to beat your lessons into you," Sypha said flatly and Adrian laughed, imagining what Trevor might have been like as a boy.
"Wait…" Adrian looked up from the book he was carefully examining, trying to find the diagram which corresponded to the flower described in the first volume, "Are you saying that its possible that information from some of these books might be missing? Or that certain books may not be original?"
"I guess so, yeah. I have no idea."
Adrian found the page he was looking for then. The book was very old, and very delicate. He carefully pushed it open further, trying not to damage the spine. He ran one finger along the page until he found the exact diagram that had been referenced. "Do you recognize this flower? From your family's graveyard? It would be white according to the description," he turned the book towards the hunter.
"Uhh… I mean I am not gonna lie… all flowers pretty much look the same to me. I guess so? I don't know… I just told you I hated this kind of shit. I literally have never cared about flowers for a second in my entire life."
Sypha smacked him on the back of the head.
"Ow! Hey!"
"Trevor that's the flower we need to heal Adrian of the poison. So you'd better start caring about it because you are going to go out there and get it."
"Uhh… I really don't think you should trust me to do that. I'll bring back the wrong thing and it'll make him worse. You have to come with me Syph. I'll show you where the graves are and hunt for some game while you look. You can stick to picking daisies."
She looked like she was going to argue, but then thought better of it. "Alright. That's actually a good plan. Lets go now. Its daytime, it will make it easier to find what we are looking for, and there won't be any night creatures."
They both rose to go, then Sypha turned back to Adrian and set the book down. "You can keep looking through these for something that might help while we're gone. Is there anything you need us to bring you before we go?"
He looked around his little cell as if he were considering it, but he already knew there was nothing he needed except to get out of the cage and be cured of the poison. "I'll be fine. Don't let Trevor get eaten by a bear."
"I can hear you," the hunter said in mock irritation as he gathered his weapons and a few other supplies.
Sypha was about to go but she remembered her robe, taking it from the floor. Adrian wouldn't need it now that he had his pack with his own clothes and other supplies. She slipped it on, smoothing her hands over the blue wool, then she knelt down and put her arms around him gently, kissing his sunken cheek. "We will be back as soon as we can, just try to be patient a little longer," she said to him, and made her way through the bars and out of sight. Trevor was right behind her but he paused in the doorway, looking back to Adrian. He returned to his various belongings, grabbing something and bringing it to the cage. His sword hilt clanged loudly against the bars as he re-entered. He was now in his full cloak and had all his weapons strapped to various parts of him. He seemed somehow larger and more imposing in his gear, more intimidating. That was good. He looked quite capable of fulfilling Adrian's request.
He bent on his knee and laid two more rabbits on the stones then put a hand on Adrian's bony shoulder, catching his eyes in a serious look. "I am gonna bring you the biggest, baddest fuckin animal I can find. Just sit tight. We will try to be back before dark if I can get something. This is going to be over soon. I promise."
Adrian didn't say anything, the scent of the meat holding most of his attention. Trevor was gone in a few more seconds. He heard the pair's footsteps fading as they exited the Hold, climbing the many stairs up to the doorway at the top. He heard Sypha chanting, and the air suddenly whooshed when the stone was moved to allow them to exit. He was able to smell the outside air very briefly, its freshness different from the vaguely mouldy smells of dusty books that dominated the Hold. It fell still once more as they re-closed the stone behind them and then everything was silent. He only waited a moment before devouring the two rabbits as he had the one earlier. The meat was not as fresh and in any other circumstance he would have refused to consume such distasteful game. For the moment he had nothing else and it was a small comfort to have a few more calories and the bit of blood that was left in them. Old blood was horrible, congealed, it smelled wrong, but he was well past the point of being able to refuse. He did as before, taking everything that was possible to consume from the animals, forcing himself to crunch though the bones just to have something more in his stomach. He pitched both little skulls out of his iron prison, sending them rolling down a seemingly endless series of staircases until they finally grew silent at some invisible position far below. The cold meal slid unpleasantly into his stomach. It was digested very quickly, contributing only marginally to any sort of healing and serving mostly to just make him that much hungrier for something substantial. His body was crying out desperately, his fingers trembling lightly as the sensation of starvation intensified now that there was nobody around to distract him from it.
Alone in the cavern for the first time, he was able to hear the sounds of water dripping somewhere, and little else. It was incredibly silent in the deep underground space. It reminded him a bit of his resting place under Gresit. They had left one lantern burning, but it ran out of fuel after a few hours, plunging him into complete blackness. He could see, but his eyes were only able to make out a few details in the absolute absence of all light. Even vampire vision required at least a tiny amount of light to see by. He eventually opened his pack and worked through his possessions slowly, running his fingers over his personal trinkets and other items. He also tried for his sword, reaching out to see if he could call it, but he was too weak to even make it twitch in the scabbard. He found clothing, pulling a shirt over his head. Unfortunately the bottoms could not be donned because of the splint on his leg, which was getting quite stiff and sore after so much time resting on the stone floor. He wiggled his toes, thankful that they worked now, at least. It would be so good to lay in a real bed again, to move normally, to not be in constant pain. It would be wonderful if he could just stop the horrible incessant growling of his stomach, the only other sound in the Hold now that his friends had gone.
In their absence he spent some time reflecting on everything which had transpired in the last week. It had completely changed his life, and he didn't just mean because of the trap. He had feelings for them, for Trevor and Sypha. He cared for them deeply, so much so that his heart ached when he thought of how much he missed them already, after only a few hours.
He recalled telling his friends about life growing up in the castle and was drawn into a memory of his father. When things had been terrible between them right before his mother had gone, he had told Adrian that he would never belong with the humans, no matter how much he pretended to be like them. He would never be accepted by them or have a real place among them.
"You were wrong Father," he said out loud in the darkness. "You were wrong. I do have a place with them, they are my friends, and I am theirs. They will come back and together we will stop you."
The hours ticked away, stretching longer and longer, and Adrian eventually laid down again, making himself as comfortable as he could with the items he had on hand. He couldn't help but worry that something could happen to them. The daylight would eventually pass, and night would come, and with it the danger of the night creatures. Trevor and Sypha were well equipped to defend themselves, but they were only human. They could be injured, they could be killed. As the hours crept by, impossible to measure in the featureless darkness, Adrian worried more and more about his friends. It occurred to him that if by some horrible turn of events they were unable to return that he would be left in here forever, trapped in the magical cage, in the secret Belmont Hold that nobody in the world knew was there. Trapped for eternity to starve and desiccate alone.
"They will come back for me," he said to nobody.
There was no answer in the dark but the sound of his stomach growling.
~o~O~o~
