This story is rated M for graphic scenes of sexuality, nudity and reluctance.
Please use extreme reader discretion with this chapter!!!!!!!!!!
Volume 2, Part X: A Wonderful Husband
Torio watched Sand leave with the look of the last man on a sinking ship, watching their lifeboat drift emptily away from them on the sea. Well. Time to get this over with. Asrar led her to a side door, pushing it open; the bedroom spilled out before them, luxurious and opulent. His hand felt searingly hot on her arm as he pulled her behind him, the door shutting after their passing with a slam! of finality.
Orban Asrar's room was richly decorated. A large bed sat imposingly in the middle of the room. The walls were decorated with original paintings from artists around Faerun, possibly some from as far as Kara-Tur. Another fireplace was here, with a furred rug made by some exotic, unidentifiable creature. Orban opened a bottle of champagne and poured a glass for Torio.
"Tell me - do you really believe your husband loves you?" He sat on the rug in front of the fire and pulled Torio to him, stroking the back of her neck. He nuzzled her cheek. "If he loved you, do you think he would have given you up for a map?"
Torio stared at the glass in her hands, her body still and motionless as she felt his hand slide across the back of her neck. "Apparently you seemed to feel the price you called for and the map are of equal value," She said steadily; she took a sip of the sparkling wine, trying to coat her parched throat. "What matter is it, then, to you, of the feelings between my husband and I? You should be satisfied, Master Asrar." Her voice was warm, even, neutral; she looked steadily away from him, her heart pounding. Why was he stalling?
His question had latched on to her mind; she had no idea what Sand felt for her, only that their turbulent relationship had ground into unfamiliar territory seemingly for both of them. It was hard to navigate; she recalled the way the saltine liquid had spilled from her eyes as they had made love in the carriage, his voice ragged and breathless, his body...Mine, mine, mine, mine...Her mouth twitched imperceptibly, doubt niggling at her. This isn't what your mission is about, Torio...stay focused...
Asrar laughed. "It matters because how you feel for each other determines the value of the map, my pet." He pulled her close for a rough, bruising kiss. "The map would not be worth anything if your husband had only been willing to give up a beggar or a serving girl. But no..." the man breathed out. "He gave up his lovely wife." His fingers began toying with the shoulder of her dress, pulling them down slightly. "Tell me, what does your husband call you when he is being affectionate?"
Torio squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth aching smartingly as he pulled back from the kiss to speak. His eyes were dark and piercing, hooded slightly as his fingers plucked at the sleeves of her gown, inching the fabric downwards. She forced tensing body to relax, tried wildly to suppress the creeping chill crawling up her spine. Tell him something, anything. "Pet names, endearments..." She saw his gaze narrow momentarily, and her pulse raced; would he hurt her if he thought she was lying? How could she tell him the truth? Sand slipped into broken, ragged Elvish when they were together; a human woman with a pet name of Helkaer would be beyond suspicious. "He...calls me 'Icy One'...when we first met, we rather hated each other." She lifted her chin haughtily, her eyes harder than steel. "Now he uses it…affectionately."
"How...interesting." Asrar began kissing her neck, sliding his hand up her bare leg, flicking the skirt aside. "Truly, it appears that the two of you have had an interesting relationship. I love a complex woman. It was your knowledge of the neurotoxin that attracted my attention. Well read, my pet, or do you and your husband run with the wrong crowd?" His fingers greedily sunk into the flesh of her backside as his mouth sucked on the skin of her shoulders.
Torio felt a wash of illogical dismay as she felt his mouth close around her shoulder, pulling at the skin painfully...He was going to leave a mark...She grit her teeth, his hand pulling her against him. "There is hardly a book in the realms I have not touched," She said simply. "And being without magical ability leaves a woman to find other ways of...protecting herself." And those she cares about. She recalled the lifeless assassin's eyes as the last light fled from them.
His hand was gripping her flesh so hard she stifled a pained gasp, clenching her lips together resolutely. The be-knifed garter on her other leg seemed to itch insistently, and she felt a sudden wash of panic at what his reaction might be when he found her armed.
Asrar pushed her down onto the rug. "What, your husband does not do an adequate job of protecting you, my lovely pet?" He gave a sharp tug on her bodice, pulling the fabric down over her breasts. "No..." He paused, staring at her chest. "No I suppose he doesn't." He grabbed her breasts with the entirety of his palms, pressing down and twisting the nipples. "What a tasty morsel you are. Come now, show a little enthusiasm. This should be fun." The glint in his eyes indicated that he expected a positive response to his touch, whether she felt it or not.
She sucked in a breath sharply, her nipples hardening between his fingers, her body responding whether she willed it to or no. She stared up at him, her mouth drawn in a fierce line, eyes narrowed slightly; she felt the familiar rush of blood beneath her skin as her body anticipated what was to come, but her mind was rebelling mercilessly.
A soft, sibilant voice at the back of her thoughts whispered, This was so much easier in the past, wasn't it girl? Without the emotional attachments, pulling at you, tugging; you used to even enjoy it...No!
"You bartered for my body, Master Asrar," she said throatily; her voice had dropped to a rough, husky whisper despite herself. "Not my enthusiasm."
Asrar narrowed his eyes at her, cruelly. "Then your body I shall have and I shall see that you enjoy it enthusiastically, whether you want to or not." He flipped her over on her front, his fingers yanking at the ribbons and laces holding her dress together, while his mouth kissed the back of her neck wetly. He pulled the dress from her body, the fabric stretching and ripping in some areas. Asrar reached up and yanked the ornate hair comb from her hair, tossing it onto the floor next to the abandoned dress. He tousled her hair. "You have beautiful hair, my pet." His eyes flicked downwards and then he stopped a moment. "My...what an...ornate dagger." He pulled it from the sheath and held it up in the firelight. "Planning on using this on me, Nagendra? It is a lovely blade." Asrar flipped her over again like a limp doll so that she was lying across his lap, on her back. He pressed the cold steel between her breasts. "How does that feel?"
Torio swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribs...and against the blade between her breasts. She took a deep, steadying breath, feeling the shock of air on her very suddenly exposed skin and the icy chill of metal so close to her heart. "Cold," She said steadily. His face was hard above her, eyes dark and unreadable. He had promised not to hurt her...hadn't he? Empty words from Luskan, Torio. You should know better.
He held the blade there another moment, gauging her reaction. "Cold even for the 'Icy One'?" he asked mockingly, no warmth in his voice whatsoever. He pressed the dagger firmly into her skin, watching the pale white flesh indent under the blade but stopping before he drew blood. He threw the blade aside, the weapon clattering noisily on the stone floor. "I have another blade for you. Undress me."
Torio sat up carefully, her body trembling almost uncontrollably as she knelt in front of him. Her fingers began working the laces of his shirt, keeping her eyes bent down to her task; she kept her movements succinct, business like, as she pushed his tunic off of his shoulders. She reached down, hesitating for a moment as her fingers touched the laces below his naval. He was beginning to harden, she could see through the fabric; she shut her eyes momentarily, steadying herself, her chest tightening painfully. She began pulling the laces on his trousers apart, pulling the strings all the way through the eyeholes, her fingers shaking.
Asrar watched her carefully. She was shaking and he smiled, delighting in her discomfort. When his trews were unlaced, he stood and pulled them off himself. She was sitting on the carpet, her face and eyes away from him. He stepped in front of her. "You know what to do. And mind the teeth." He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her towards him. "Do you do this for your husband? Is he gentle with you? You will find I am not quite so tender."
Torio winced slightly as his fingers gripped her hair, pulling her face between his legs. "My husband," she said through clenched teeth, "deserves such as this, Orban." She jerked her head forward slightly, impudently, away from his grasp, and then carefully wrapped her fingers around him, shutting her eyes. She felt a familiar deadening of sensation as she took him into her mouth, a light, weightlessness that shrouded her head; she felt separated, as if she were merely a bystander watching the proceedings. Her mind swam away from her, pulling at images; Sand's mouth and body, his eyes, his fingers in her hair (her short, brown hair). Her lips pulled at Orban's length as her thoughts wandered, her eyes tightly shut.
Orban sighed gutturally. "Oh you're quite good at this, my pet." He watched her silently work between his legs, her eyes closed, her movements effective and practiced. "I'm sure your husband deserves whatever it is you give him. When you see him tomorrow, will you take him into your sweet little mouth too? Does he deserve it after so effectively selling you to me like the whore that you are?" He reached out again, pulling her head forward as he pushed himself deeper in, to the back of her throat. Then he released her and withdrew from her mouth.
He knelt besides her and carefully wiped her lips. "That wasn't so bad now, was it, lovely Nagendra?" He pushed her gently back on the rug. "I'm a fair man, let me return the favor." He slid his tongue along her. His fingers gripped her thighs viciously to him, holding her down and to his mouth as he lapped between her legs.
Torio whimpered, thrashing for a moment and crashing back down to earth with brutalizing clarity. Her body responded with raging fervor, her muscles contracting almost painfully as the sensation shot through her middle, and she rolled her head against the rug, fighting it back. His hands pushed her legs down, applying more pressure when she tried to move them, refusing to release her. A short, half-moan, half-sob tore from her throat. "Bastard," she gasped, her fingers clutching at the rug.
"Your body gives you away, my pet. When you lie with your husband at night, is it still exciting for you? How many years have you been married now?" He crawled over her until he was face to face with her. "I've been called worse you know. But some women even have been known to call me handsome. You don't find me totally loathsome, do you?"
She inhaled slowly as he hovered over her, his dark eyes penetrating her own. "Physically," she said breathily, her voice tight with anger and rough with her body's traitorous arousal, "You may be pleasing to look at, Orban." She tilted her chin back stubbornly. "But you are Luskan...I know of your city, your people. Beautiful and powerful, and rotten on the inside."
Like me.
He gave a deep, sonorous laugh. "You know me and my city far too well it would seem. My pet, you could probably get used to someone like me - someone beautiful and powerful and rotten on the inside. I'm very rich, I could buy you whatever your wicked heart desires." Asrar kissed her jawline. "Or I could keep my word to your husband and only take your body." With that he lowered himself, forcing himself inside her, sliding himself inside his prize covetously.
She bit her lip as he slid inside of her; her hands remained clawed against the rug, fingernails catching in the long, sinuous fibers beneath their bodies. "My husband can already buy off my wicked little heart," she said sharply; she wriggled slightly, her body recoiling as she felt his girth fill her expansively, her walls clenching spasmodically around him; her heels were digging into the floor as she strained not to flail and kick until he was off of her. "Not everything can simply be bought and sold, Orban." Her unfamiliar long hair was sticking to her neck and shoulders, a light sheen of perspiration spreading across her skin as his body pressed down on hers.
Orban kissed her down the neck. "Well it's good to know you wouldn't be after me for my money...But, Nagendra, you haven't told me if you could get used to me, a life with me." He began slowly thrusting, ignoring her stock-still posture. "A man as powerful as me needs a wife as lovely as you. We could get rid of your husband easily enough." Asrar groaned loudly and pushed himself further in. "Maybe we can buy off his wicked heart...or just kill him."
Torio's head rolled to the side, her face turned towards the fire as Asrar's mouth trailed down her neck. She forced her body to relax, to lie still, deceptively yielding as he began impaling himself into her body. It might work, you know, girl.
Neverwinter would never just let me disappear; they know what I look like, my alias; they would know what happened and send someone after me as soon as Sand disappeared...oh, bodaes...
She sighed almost longingly, her eyes closed as she brought a pair of sharp blue eyes to the forefront of her mind. "No," she said, her voice barely a whisper; her hips were so flaccid they were rocking back and forth with Asrar's thrusts. She almost chuckled as she wondered what this wealthy little artificer would say if he realized he had the former Ambassador of all Luskan pinned beneath him on the rug. "You wouldn't know what to do with me, Orban," she said almost tauntingly. "Better for you to stick with what you know how to do."
"Indeed. Is that what you think? I think I would know how to put you in your place, pet." He grunted as he continued to heave inside her. "A pity nevertheless. The offer stands until morning when your husband collects you. In fact, it'll stand until you leave Luskan." He turned her face roughly to him, pressing his mouth to hers, forcing her lips apart with his tongue as he delved inside. His hands ran coarsely up the side of her body, groping unlovingly at her breasts, her hips. Grabbing onto her waist, he rolled over so that she was now on top. "Finish me. Make your husband's investment in the map worth something."
There was a moment of utter disorientation as she was swung from the floor like a rag doll and positioned on top of him; she swayed forward dizzily, her hands pressing against his chest to steady herself. Her hair rippled forward in silken clumps and for a moment she stared down at him, her stomach churning.
"Worth something?" She was suddenly angry, furious; furious at being used, by Nevalle, by Nasher, by Aarin, by Garius...by Neverwinter and Luskan and seemingly any person with relative power in between. She had scraped and scrounged and clawed her way over countless bodies and political parleys and god knows how many other things to gain what she would eventually lose in a heartbeat...
…and you're still nothing but a perfumed whore spreading her legs over the political chessboard...
Her hips began driving against him; she shuddered, fingernails digging into Orban's body mercilessly, wanting to hurt him, break his skin, feel blood on her hands; her chest was a tight ball of pain, misery filling her to her very core and lashing through her harder than a whip. Her hair fall around her face like a curtain, hiding the wetness brimming in her eyes.
You do not weep, Torio Claven.
Asrar winced and then moaned as she suddenly went from being passive to releasing a deluge of aggression. "Oh yes - harder!" Her whole body was smacking into him, the beads of sweat dripping and sliding between her breasts which were now bouncing in the air with each determined thrust. His fingers sunk into her hips, holding her tight but not needing to guide her frenzy. His whole shaft slid in and out of her, straining against her walls until he peaked, his back coming off the rug, his toes curling. His head fell back against the furred floor, his mouth open and breathing hard. His eyes were rolled back, his fingers digging even harder into her flesh. An animalistc roar ripped from his throat and he grunted, satisfied, with each pulse expelling his seed into her, until he finished and felt himself grow limp again.
Torio watched him, her eyes turbulent and her breath coming hard, as he finally lay still against the rug. She pulled her hands back from his chest, eyeing the deep, angry red gouges she had left in his skin.
I'm going to kill you.
"You look rather satisfied, Master Asrar," She said lowly, her face shadowed by the firelight flickering through the hair around it. "I do...apologize if I hurt you."
"I am rather satisfied. For now anyway." He sat up and looked down at his chest, touching the skin gingerly. There was some blood. "Don't apologize, my pet. You don't mean a word of it. It's too soon to be lying to me." He stood slowly, his skin damp from exertion and grabbed her by the upper arm, pulling her towards the bed. "It has been a long day. No doubt you are as tired as I am. Let us sleep."
Torio didn't resist as she was pulled towards the bed; her eyes flicked wildly to where her dress lay discarded; she could see the prongs of the comb glittering dully in the firelight where it lay half discarded in the heap of deep blue cloth...
She was none-too gently tossed back onto his bed, Asrar's form following her. She fell still after she pulled the blanket to her chin, her eyes scanning the floor briefly before she fell back against the pillows; dagger by the far wall, her slippers by the door; comb hidden beneath her dress...
Asrar wrapped his arm around her waist. "Try to sleep, all right? I don't need you moving around in the bed and waking me up. I have people to meet and errands to run tomorrow." He smiled harshly. "Besides, we want you looking beautiful for your blessed reunion with your husband as well." He closed his eyes; moments later, he was asleep.
Torio lay awake, staring at Asrar's ceiling; the sky was still dark outside. Asrar made no sound; even his breathing was heavy, deep, and near silent. She felt completely and unutterably alone. She knew it was pointless; she had no idea what the range was for the telepathy spell, but she felt so raw...She stretched her mind out... Bodaes?...
Silence.
She huddled the edge of the bed, shutting her eyes momentarily. She had no idea how she would be able to sleep...
...and when she opened her eyes, the sun was creeping over the horizon. Her heart skipped a beat...it was almost over. She slipped from the bed, glancing at Asrar's form, and moved to where her dress lay discarded.
Asrar opened his eyes. His hand and arm found only empty bed. He sat up and turned. The woman was standing by the fireplace, picking up her clothes. "So eager to leave me, Nagendra?" He stood up from the bed, pulling on a housecoat and then walked over to the fireplace, stoking it. "My words may seem empty to you, but for what it's worth, I enjoyed my time with you."
"I'm sure you did," she said calmly. Torio stepped into her gown, pulling it up and over her body; it was ripped in numerous places, the threads stretched in some; she discreetly picked the comb up from the floor once she laced her gown back together, however shoddily, and began absently combing out her hair with the fingers of her free hand, her expression placid as she looked at him expectantly.
Asrar nodded at Torio and then pulled her close for a final kiss. "I suppose you want the word to activate the map? It is - and listen carefully - lethoveruminum." He stepped back. "If there is nothing else - you will find the bag of excess gems in the other room along with some parchment and some writing tools. Write out the two promised recipes and all instructions there. I suspect your husband will be here quite soon and quite eager to see you." He began walking towards his bedroom door. "My offer still stands. Despite how I was last night, I think I would make a wonderful husband for you."
She frantically pulled the syllables into her head...lethoveruminum...
"Master Asrar," she said coolly. He stopped, half turned. "You know," she said silkily, suddenly demure...she walked towards him, her eyes hooded by her long lashes as she looked up at him; her fingers reached out, toying with his robe, grabbing it and pulling him close to her. "In the light of day, your offer sounds rather...reasonable, considering the circumstances..."
She pulled on the robe, drawing his face to hers; she kissed him, hungrily, desperately...
...she felt him stiffen, felt him suck in his breath in surprise...she felt the hot, sticky fluid gush out over her hand, oozing and spilling to the floor…
"On the other hand," she whispered, "Your prospects seem to be rather dim at the moment." His body was already shaking spastically; she saw a fleck of foam form at the corner of his mobile, cruel mouth. She twisted the comb, feeling the sharp, metal prongs rip through the soft flesh of his belly. Completely unnecessary, and yet... "If only you knew, pig," She hissed into his face. "If you knew who I was..." She stepped back, staring hard down into his dark eyes; she released the comb, letting his body fall with a soft, near-silent thud across the rug where he had taken her mere hours before. He twitched spasmodically, red-flecked spittle bubbling from his mouth as she calmly moved across the room and retrieved her dagger, slipping it back into her garter. She caught her reflection in the mirror; her eyes were hollow, sunken and shadowed in her pale face. She slipped her feet into her slippers at the door.
As the door clicked silently shut behind her, Orban Asrar gave a final shudder and lay still.
Sand left the mansion, storming past the guards and serving staff, and started walking blindly down the street. He felt cowardly and numb, leaving Torio behind like that to pay the ultimate price for this damnable map. A map! It wasn't until he was halfway to the Inn that he realized that he was clutching the map openly in his hands and he hadn't been paying attention to the surroundings whatsoever.
He risked a look behind him; as far as he could tell, nobody was following him and he tucked the map inside his robes. The streets were dark and mostly deserted. A few drunks stumbled past him, asking for coin and then shouting insults to him and his familial lineage as he stomped past. A guard or two gave him a curious look but opted to avoid him. He knew he probably looked unwell and unstable. He felt unwell and unstable. He wanted to reach out with his mind to her but he was too far from her now. She was alone. He was alone.
The ariik gem hung heavy against his chest. He could have offered that instead of Torio. Instead he was not thinking - stupid! - selfish. They would have found another way to kill Asrar instead of risking the girl, as able as he suspected she was. His fingers were itching to unleash a torrent of spells, right here in the middle of the street. Fireballs and lightening spells until the whole city burnt into a smoking ruin, Asrar along with it.
So tempting.
Instead, he found himself opening the front door of the Seven Sails Inn and walking, dazed, inside. He found himself in his - their - room. He locked the door and stood there.
Business first before you lose your mind...
Something snapped inside him.
...Damn you all.
He grabbed the nearest item within reach, some potion or other and flung it against the far wall, feeling a violent satisfaction as seeing the glass shatter and the liquid explode. He tipped the table over, sending the wineglasses and the half-finished meal from earlier to the floor with a loud crash. He floundered a second, nothing else immediately available to appease his temper so he turned and punched the wall. The plaster cracked, leaving behind a fist-sized hole. He punched it again and again, until the wall was splattered with a fine mist of blood. Sand barely felt the pain but was aware he had probably broken his hand. His shoulders sagged and he sunk to the floor, drawing up his knees. For the first time in his long life, he sobbed openly, hot and raw, all emotion with no rationalization. They had succeeded; but he had failed.
It could have been minutes or hours. When Sand finally lifted his head, his whole body felt beaten and weathered. He suddenly felt old - all three centuries pressing down on him. He looked at his hand - definitely broken. He half-crawled, half-limped over to his bag and pulled out a healing potion. He felt the magic heal the cracked bones; he carefully closed his hand. Still swollen but at least not broken.
They still needed to get out of Luskan to survive.
He pulled out the map and lay it across the floor, staring at the blank hide. Suddenly knowing what to do, he cast Polymorph Object. The map seemed to protest a moment and then it turned in a non-descript belt. Sand quickly cast the Permanency spell on it and then belted it around his waist. He went over to the bundle of gear they had, pulling out a dozen scrolls he knew a man like Asrar would appreciate, and then an assortment of magical trinkets. He rubbed his face tiredly. It was still dark outside. He might as well try to get some sleep.
Sand crawled into the bed that him and Torio had shared earlier. It was cold. The bed was large, too large for just him and it made him painfully aware of his singularity at the moment. Sand got out of the bed and pulled the heavy blanket along with him. He walked back into main room. One of her shirts was on the floor, discarded in their flurry of getting ready. He picked that up as well and brought it all to the small couch. Sand curled up on the cushions, pulling the blankets over him, holding the shirt in his hands, and fell into an unhappy asleep.
Sand's eyes were open the minute the first hints of sunlight streamed through the window. He was totally sore from sleeping on the couch but he ignored the pain, grabbing the items for Asrar. He hesitated and then ran back for his potion bag. The man had promised not to hurt her but... He bolted from the room, not caring that he was still dressed in the clothes from the night before.
When Sand reached the street, he forced himself to walk towards Asrar's mansion. He knew it wasn't far and yet each step didn't seem to take him any closer. His stomach was completely agitated; he was so anxious he felt like vomiting. But he steeled himself and walked towards the mansion.
He paused on the street. All was quiet; no guards shouting or running around. Either Torio hadn't killed him yet or his body hadn't been discovered. Sand approached the door, telling the guard and not mincing his words, "I am here for my wife and to deliver this."
The guard nodded and opened the door. "Wait in the foyer. She will be down soon."
Sand entered the front hall and stood, barely suppressing his nervous trembling. He was ready to cast any spell if they ran into trouble but he hoped he could simple get Torio and leave his place forever.
The hallway seemed to stretch forever; she passed through the antechamber outside of Asrar's room, and into the wide festhall they had dined in the night before. Her heels echoed loud and ominous as she crossed the wide floor; the guards watched her progress, following her with their eyes, and she clenched her fist into her skirt as she walked, hiding the dried, sticky blood smeared across her palm against the fabric. She held her head high as she passed from the festhall and into the long hallway leading to the foyer.
Her face was calm, but she urgently pushed out with her mind; her thought sounded desperate, an edge of frayed nerves and panic riding along in its wake. Bodaes. Bodaes, please...are you here? Lethoveruminum, it's the word, it's lethoveruminum...
"Wait! Stop her!"
She sucked in a breath and ran harder than she ever had in her life, sprinting for the doors that rose up to meet her at the end of the hall.
Helkaer! Oh gods you're all right...Lethoveruminum...Hurry, girl!
Sand heard the voices of the guards before he saw them and instantly he knew three things: Torio had killed him, she was headed this way and she was in trouble. He ran forward and met her halfway down the long hall. She looked horrible - unlike he had ever seen her before - completely drained, pale. "Keep running!" He quickly cast Daze on the two guards chasing her and then turned as well, following her. He fumbled with his component pouch a moment and then cast Invisibility Sphere on himself. "Here! Over here!"
Torio whirled, clutching blindly, she saw her arms disappear before the rest of her followed, and then her hands grasped at Sand's shoulders and she could feel him...Oh gods, bodaes!
They backed up against the farthest corner as a pair of guards spilled into the foyer moments after the spell had taken effect. She turned, pressing her face against Sand's invisible chest and stifling her wracked, ragged, rather loud breathing...Oh gods, we're going to die...
"Damn it, Sergeant! I want them found; both her and the husband, I don't care if you have to strip all the men from the house and send them out into the streets." A furious looking man in highly polished plate armor glared daggers at the quailing young man in front of him. "Alert the watch; make sure they check anyone trying to leave the city, and send someone to the inn they were staying at. They won't get away from us." The Sergeant saluted and ran off, as the Captain turned and hollered for more men, moving into the adjacent room.
Sand held her as close as humanly possible, his heart thumping so loud it was a true miracle none of the guards heard. We're not going to die. You're forgetting who you are with, dear girl.
Sand gripped her hand tightly. He looked towards the front door. So close...and yet... It would be impossible for them to open it and slip out with raising suspicion from the exterior guards. He quietly cast Silence. Now at least they would be able to run without worrying about making any noise. Sand cautiously began moving back towards the inside of the house, hoping for a back door when a small contingent of guards marched out of the doorway he had been planning to go through.
He quickly pulled her up a flight of stairs to the second floor. It was quiet up here and he pulled her from room to room, looking for one with a large window. The final room at the end of the hall had a window that the both of them would be able to jump out of. Sand stuck his head out and looked down. It was a daunting drop onto a small grassy area. He climbed up on the ledge and cast Feather Fall.
Hang on, dear girl. Sand jumped.
Torio's skirt whipped up around her legs, her hair flew in an invisible streaming ribbon behind them as they fell; her arms clung around Sand's neck...They fell lightly, but still in a confused heap; she felt her shaking legs give out from under her, the jolt knocking her back from Sand and sending her sprawling onto her back. She lifted her head and for a moment, panicked, as she caught the edge of her blue skirt laying against the grass, on the outside of the invisibility sphere...
She yanked it back, but not before a young grounds guard caught the movement; he gaped, open mouthed, and Torio took the opportunity to stand shakily to her feet.Come on! she thought, reaching for any part of Sand she could find. Her hand closed around his, and she took off, Sand at her side; they sprinted across the house's back lawn towards the high, elegantly manicured hedge just as the young guard began shouting...
Wait...Helkaer...wait wait wait! Sand dispelled the Silence spell and threw a quick look behind him, looking through his component pouch. Where was it? He pulled out a small downy feather and immediately began chanting. The sounds of approaching footsteps, clanking of metal, were rapidly approaching. He could feel Torio standing besides him, breathing hard from the running, jumping...
...and now flying. Sand cast Mass Fly and pulled Torio close to him as they lifting up in the air, over the hedge and away from the sounds of the angry guards, away from Orban Asrar's house forever.
"Oh hells," she whispered as she felt their feet leave the ground, and then they were up, up, and gone...the winding, squat streets below them passed by, people going about their business, completely unaware of the invisible pair flying above their heads.
"Somewhere safe, relatively closed off," she whispered in his ear. "We need to activate Gend's rings and get the hells out of here..." Her voice, even whispering, was cracking as she spoke. They turned in the air and Sand finally touched them down in a small, side alley, with high walls of the buildings on two sides and a small dividing fence at the back. The street at the end of the alley was almost deserted...
The invisibility sphere popped out of existence, and Torio and Sand pressed against the wall. She caught a decent look at Sand for the first time since the night before; his face looked drawn, cold, pained, the shadows around his eyes so deep they almost looked like bruises. She touched the contact ring around her finger. "Are you ready? We need to say those words, remember?" She was whispering, her eyes darting back towards the street uneasily.
Sand nodded. "Ready." He slowly recited the words, carefully pronouncing them, watching Torio do the same. He felt a bizarre magical tug on his fingers: the beacon was activated. "I suppose we can wait here." He leaned against the brick wall, exhaling and then began rummaging through his pack. Wordlessly, he handed her a small phial of pink fluid – a contraceptive potion, not meeting her eyes, before asking, "Are you hurt?"
Torio sank against the wall, taking the potion from Sand's fingers with shaking fingers. Was she hurt? She was exhausted; her entire body ached like one, large, throbbing bruise, her long hair tangled from their impromptu flight from the house. Her insides felt cold and heavy and black, twisting inside of her.
"Yes," she said simply, although it wasn't exactly what Sand had meant. She pulled the cork from the potion, drinking it down in its entirety; the empty phial slipped from her fingers and smashed against the pavement with a delicate tinkle! She glanced at him wearily; his right hand looked slightly mottled and bruised, and she frowned slightly, reaching for it. "Your hand, bodaes," she said quietly. "What happe---"
And then blackness fell over her face, and she let out a muffled, startled cry as the air was sucked away from her lungs; she slipped, fell hard onto the cobble, her feet kicking and sliding and scraping against broken glass as she gagged and hacked, gasping for air as the black fabric against her face smothered and pulled against her mouth; her thoughts trickling erratically through her mind as she lost consciousness
...Sand!...what is...where...I can't breathe...A'maelamin...
Then there was a brief, bursting pain in her head and true blackness enveloped her.
Sand was about to reply to Torio when he felt a rough hewn sack drop over his head, the hemp cords twisting around his throat. He could feel Torio's panicky thoughts and even as he struggled against his assailants...
Torio...I'm coming...
His attacker was behind him, strong and Sand struggled to get enough air in his lungs for a spell. Just one spell...
A sharp, shooting pain across the back of his head, flashes of white spotted lights before his eyes and then merciful unconsciousness...
Torio...