Canon-divergence from Lukanus's Koncert.

Failure

The dungeons in the City of Shadows were miserable at the best of times. Dug deep into the earth below the centre of the Stump, they were among the first places to flood when the Hotsy-Totsy failed and the swamp water seeped in. Even when the pumps were working, there was a pervading sense of damp, and it wasn't uncommon for prisoners to find themselves dripped on as they sat in the dim silence, surrounded by wet rock, iron bars and despair.

Acylius flinched as a particularly large drop of water splashed down onto his carapace and ran down his wings. The guards, in perfect unison, slapped heavy hands down on his shoulders, and he staggered.

"Hey, now," rumbled the one on the left. "No more of this running nonsense, alright?"

"Took us far too long to catch up with you last time," said the other. "We don't wanna have to go to Lord Krabo and explain why you're missing. Again." He gave a theatrical shudder. "My Lord Krabo's temper is downright scary."

Acylius angrily shrugged off their hands. "I wasn't trying to run," he said coldly. "I was dripped on, and it surprised me." He flicked a wing, spraying the guard on his left with the remnants of the water. "See?"

The guard blinked at him. "Oh. Right."

Acylius took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. The situation was hardly the fault of the guards, and they couldn't help being what they were—perfect, stolid, unimaginative Yuks. It wasn't right for him to snap at them just because he was feeling helpless and furious.

"Shall we?" he asked, when he was certain that he wouldn't start shouting at them.

"Right," said the guard on the left, straightening his shoulders.

"Let's go," said the guard on the right, stepping up to stand level with Acylius again.

They set off again, shouldering Acylius from side to side in the narrow corridor.

"Hey, Prince," said the one on the left, as they turned down another of the labyrinthine tunnels that made up the Yuk citadel. "I got a question for you."

"Ask away."

"Is it true that you tackled my Lord Krabo when he tried to put the prisoner through the Dark Box?"

Just the name of the device sent another bolt of cold fear through Acylius, followed quickly by a burst of hot anger. His fists clenched, and he had to make a conscious effort to relax them. "Yes, it's true."

"Wow," said the guard on the right. "Kind of amazing that you're not in the dungeons yourself. No offense."

"None taken," said Acylius. He knew very well why Krabo hadn't tossed him down here. "It was a very brash thing to do, I suppose."

"I was more thinking 'dangerous'," said the guard on the right.

"Or 'stupid'," suggested the guard on the left. His partner—brother? They certainly looked enough alike—jabbed him with his polearm.

"Idiot! You can't call the prince stupid!"

"I didn't call the prince stupid," protested the jabbed one. "I called tackling my Lord Krabo stupid. It's not the same thing."

"But if you say that someone did something stupid, that means that you think they're stupid," argued the jabber. "And it's treason to call the prince stupid."

"Actually, technically, it's sedition," said Acylius, stepping between the two before they could come to blows. "But it doesn't matter. I don't really care if you call me stupid. I've been called far worse things."

"Your Highness! You shouldn't put up with people insulting you!" said the jabber.

"Even when that person is Lord Krabo?" asked Acylius dryly.

"Uh..."

Acylius sighed. He really knew better than to introduce complications to these two. "Could we please hurry up? At this rate the journey will take longer than the visit itself."

"Right. Of course, Your Highness."

By the time they reached the door to the cells, Acylius's patience was in shreds, and it took every bit of his willpower to step back and let the guards unlock the door. More than anything, he wanted to snatch the keys and haul the door open himself—it would certainly be quicker than this. When the fumbling fool finally did manage to open it, Acylius abandoned control and dashed through, neatly evading the hand that swiped for his shoulder and ignoring the stunned, "Hey!" that echoed after him.

He skidded to a halt in front of the cell at the end and dropped to his knees. "Aelia," he whispered, thrusting his arm between the bars and finding her hand. It was cold. His stomach clenched.

Then she stirred, her antennae flickering weakly. "Acylius?" Her voice rasped weakly.

Acylius swallowed. "Yes, it's me," he said, his voice husky with fear. Three days. He'd been confined to his room for three days after tackling Krabo, and in that short amount of time...

Once as bright as the sky beyond the City of Darkness, Aelia now looked washed-out. Her wings almost blended into the dim cell—something that he might have put down to the lack of light in this place if it hadn't been for the fact that she looked so limp and listless. Her hand curled around his, but there was no strength in her grip. And she was so cold. Acylius chafed her hand between both of his, and wondered if preventing her from being put through the Dark Box had only delayed the inevitable.

"Fulgor will come get me out," she said softly. "He'll come. You'll see. Don't worry, Acylius."

Acylius looked down and choked back what he wanted to say. Fulgor did have a way of accomplishing what would be impossible for anyone else—and Aelia would know that better than anyone, since she had known him almost her whole life.

"How can I help worrying?" he asked. "It's my fault that you're here."

The look of annoyance that she shot him made his heart leap. It was the first real sign of life that he'd seen from her, and suddenly she looked much more like she should have. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "If you're beating yourself up because I wasn't smart enough to evade Kretinous, of all people, I swear that when we get out of here, you will be in so much trouble."

After a moment, Acylius decided that she wasn't joking—and she wasn't saying that simply to comfort him. He smiled.

"Very well," he said. "When we get out of here, I'll hold you to that."

She smiled back, and entwined her fingers with his. "So much trouble," she promised.