For all his words, it seemed Dylan took no issue with slamming Alek into the snow for a second time. And why would he? Alek knew about the rumored monsters that served aboard British Airships. Creatures neither alive or dead, soulless, damned. Killing men while their backs were turned was likely all the rage on this godless airship.
Still, Alek didn't want to go down without a fight no matter how pitiful his final effort may be. It seemed the boys grip was even stronger then it had been before, Alek tried not to think about the fact it was probably his own stolen blood granted Dylan this new power.
Cold fingers grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look into Dylan's face. Alek swore to himself that he wouldn't meet the boys eyes, refused to let himself be dominated. This was all in vain, before he knew it he was transported back to that strange world where nothing existed besides his own uncomfortable body heat and Dylan's piercing eyes.
Even if Alek had wanted to fight it this time, he found himself unable to. The cold emptiness was calling to him, his own soul boiling in his body desperate to be stolen by this monster. Again he thought of his parents, wondering if he would see them in that endless vacuum he was about to slip away into. Alek's veins began to burn and he waited patiently for Dylan to drain his life away.
But he didn't.
Unlike before, the heat didn't grow unbearable or fill him with panic. Alek just floated in this strange state of mind, unable to fight back but also unable to feel pain. Here there seemed to be no war, no death, no icy tundra infested with bloodsucking fiends. It was almost pleasant, a relief from a weight that had been crushing him ever since the night he fled from his home. Absently he wondered if this was death, if the monster had at least been merciful enough to kill him quickly. Or maybe this was just some sick game, making him relaxed and vulnerable to …sweeten his blood or something. Alek couldn't form an opinion of either possibilities, couldn't force himself to care about anything as long as he felt so warm and safe.
And then, just as suddenly as he had entered this state, it was gone.
Alek's body jerked back and tripped on something hard, causing him to lose his balance. Prepared to land on the hard ice, Alek instead felt sheets and a mattress. Opening his eyes he sat up, and found himself in some kind of bedroom. From where he sat, Alek could see he had tripped on the wooden frame of the bed he sat perched atop. A few more moments to take in his surroundings, he noticed that a blanket had been wrapped around his shoulders, and the cut on his hand cleaned and wrapped up in bandages.
The first thought that came to Alek's head made him groan with humiliation. Obviously Volger or one of his men had come after him, spotted Dylan's attack, and fought the creature off. Alek had been brought here and cleaned up, a perfect stupid prince who couldn't possibly ever take care of himself. He knew that once his head stopped spinning Volger would be here to give him a verbal lashing. Slowly reality crept back into Alek's mind, the war, his idiocy, and the frigid air.
And gods wounds but it was freezing!
Even though he was inside Alek could feel the wind raking its fingers down his back. Had Volger purposely left Alek's window open to punish him? That seemed entirely unnecessary. Alek rose with indignation to shut the window and found that instead of stone he was met with a metal porthole. The wind blew from the outside through the chipped glass, flecks of snow collecting on the desk below it. Outside was not the tactical view of the valley, but instead nothing but white ice in every direction.
Alek was inside the Leviathan's gondola.
Immediately he dropped the blanket's pitiful warmth and tried to open the door, even knowing it was locked. Of course, why would these monsters kill him off now? They must know that Alek had come from somewhere, and with their ship crashed he imagined they were in need of more then just supplies. An army was only as strong as a soldier's appetite was sated.
He had damned them. In a futile attempt to save the enemy Alek had damned them all!
Not only the lives of Volger and his men, but of the empire as well. Without him to inherit the throne, this war could wage for years to come. Perhaps centuries if the rumors of the British monsters' immortality were true.
"Idiot…" he moaned to himself, falling back onto his cot, "You complete and utter idiot…"
Alek jumped when he heard the keys turn in the lock, and as the door swung open he didn't even look up from the floor. There was no point in fighting them. Dylan alone had made a fool of his 16 years of combat training, what could Alek do against more then one?
"Oh," A voice came from the doorway, "You didn't eat your potato."
Whatever words Alek expected those were not it. He frowned and looked up to see who looked disappointedly at a tray that rested by the door.
"You." Alek hissed, standing at alert.
Dylan looked up and smiled at him, flashing clean white teeth that had punctured Alek's skin what felt like moments ago. "Aye, its me. Nice to see you're doing well."
"No thanks to you, abomination."
Some semblance of hurt flashed across his features, and if not for the teeth Alek might have thought him a normal boy, but soon the expression passed and he was smiling that awful smile again.
"That's a bit rude," he said, "Considering I made your dinner."
He nodded again at the tray, where there was indeed a baked potato placed unceremoniously in what looked like a dog bowl.
"We had to fight over who got to make it, we never really have an excuse to cook," He went on, "Newkirk won the coin toss, but you're my snowboy, so I put my foot down."
For a moment Alek was too baffled to even be offended, but that didn't last long.
"I'm not your anything!" he snapped, "And you need to let me go at once!"
Dylan nodded, "That's true enough, we need to get you back to your relations so we can have a word with your mechanic."
Alek felt something cold slide into his stomach.
"How do you know we have a mechanic?" he demanded.
The fear in Alek's voice seemed to baffle Dylan, that or the devil took some amusement from this entire exchange.
"What, you don't remember?" he shook his head, "I guess that's understandable, if I were interrogated I'd probably just blabber about all sorts of things until they let me go, and the officers had you for hours."
When the horror on Alek's face didn't soften, Dylan adopted a similar expression.
"What, they had you Mesmerized the whole time?" he said, "Oh…that's not good…"
He looked away and chewed nervously on his knuckle, sharp fangs digging into the leather. Alek was confused. He knew why it was bad for him to have all of his secrets extracted without his notice, but why on earth would Dylan care? In the blink of an eye Dylan was upon him again, gripping his shoulders and drawing him close to his face.
"Do you remember what you told them?"
If Alek hadn't experienced first hand that Dylan was below such emotions, he could have sworn he saw fear in the boy's eyes. This threw Alek off guard, and answered truthfully before he could stop himself.
"I don't even recall meeting your officers."
Dyaln dropped him and began to pace in tight fast circles. "Not good… not good." he muttered.
"What does it matter to you?" Alek found himself asking.
Dylan looked up at him and opened his mouth, before something seemed to dawn on him.
"The Lady Boffin," Dylan said, grabbing Alek by the arm, "She's practically run the ship since she's come aboard, everything the officers know she does too. She can tell us what you said!"
And then Alek was being dragged down a corridor behind the boy, unable to distinguish where one movement ended and the next began. And it wasn't like Alek could fight back, the boys grip was like iron and he towed him along with a steady unbreakable pace.
"But why are you bringing me?" Alek asked.
"I'm not bringing you, I'm kindly escorting you home like the officers ordered me to." Dylan said, "But I'm just going to stop by our other guest on the way to see if she needs anything before we head off."
Perhaps it was the affirmation that Alek was indeed being sent home safely, perhaps it was the fact that suddenly Dylan had his own reasons to gather information Alek needed as well, but Alek found himself trusting the boy as if he were human. Well, enough to venture a question, anyway.
"…And who would that other guest be?"