For the second time that spring, Jarvis was thrown onto a cold cell floor. He could hear Arien struggling in te cell next to him. There was a resounding clang and click as the cell doors were locked. The soldiers exited the room and shut the door. There was absolute silence for a moment or so, and then Jarvis heard Arien whispering.
"Jarvis. Jarvis!"
"What?"
"We need to get out of here."
"Oh really? I wasn't aware! Just freeze the bars like you did last time."
"Its not working, they're too thick!"
A silent wave of panic descended on Jarvis. They were rapidly running out of options.
"I need to think about this for a moment."
In the darkness next to him Arien rolled her eyes.
"Let me know if you have any blinding insight."
Silence greeted her. Jarvis leaned against the wall, his hands clenching and unclenching. Normally he would have produced his pipe in moments of pensive thought, but it, and all his other belongings were up the hall in the jailors quarters. He had once heard of a man weakening the bars of his window bit by bit with a length of twine and sand. In a few years he had cut all the way through. But here the metal was fresh, and they didn't have years, or twine. Or sand for that matter. It was that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. The odds were piling up, and it was all he could do not to stand and punch at the bars until either they broke or he did. He suppressed this urge and concentrated. What could they do with magic? They couldn't freeze the bars all the way through, they couldn't heat them nearly hot enough to bend, even if they had a hammer. The only other way to breach metal was... And then, blinding insight struck Jarvis, son of Hadley. An all too familiar smile curved his lips.
"Arien!"
"What?" The response came back despondently.
"I know how to get out of here!"
***
Jörmundur walked down the prison hallway, and one of the guards flanking him closed the door behind him. The morning rays of sunlight gave way to damp, torchlight blackness, and the Varden's second in command wrinkled his nose at the odor. Traitors were a really unfortunate business, he had so hoped that Arien would turn out well. She had been one of the brightest hopes for Elf-Varden relations, and now she was in a holding cell alongside a contract killer. What a waste. He new from the moment he saw Jarvis's shifting eyes and twitching fingers that he would be no good. If they survived this war, he would have the Guild of Blades disbanded and their members imprisoned for until their bones turned to dust. The light was a little better in the holding area, as the pale light of spring morn brought with it a tantalizing breath of the outdoors, no doubt to enhance the suffering of those bound within. The two had been moved to one large cell in the corner. Jörmundur pulled a small wooden stool under him and sat. The elf woke first, and pushed herself into a sitting position. Jarvis woke a second later. Jörmundur sighed deeply and produced a sheaf of parchment.
"Arien, daughter of Eodrin, you are hereby banished from Surda and her allied territories on pain of death, pending a review of your insubordination."
Arien remained completely impassive.
"Jarvis, son of Hadley, for your crimes against the Varden and against the common man, you are hereby sentenced to hang by the neck until dead."
This time it was Jarvis's turn to be impassive. The elf, on the other hand looked outraged.
"What? Why do I get to live and he must die? We both-"
"Silence! The only reason you are not being marched out to hang next to your accomplice right this second is because you are an Elf. You do not fall under our jurisdiction, and thus, we cannot order you killed."
The lieutenant leaned in close to the cell and hissed the next words through the bars.
"But if you return to Surda, I will have my men turn you into a pale pincushion, do you understand?"
The elf stared at him, her eyes brimming with hatred. In spite of himself, Jörmundur had to suppress a shiver. Behind that face lay an unnatural creature, and he was very glad to see her go. He'd never really liked elves. As alien as a deep sea fish and deadly as a poison arrow.
Jorrmunder stood and left the room. The jailer bustled in behind him and pushed a plate of food underneath the door. He leaned over and leered at Jarvis.
"Eat up boy, tommorow you swing."
The assassin made an incredibly crude hand gesture and the man laughed and left them to their meal.
The moment the door closed, Arien whipped around and grabbed the mug of dirty water.
"Alone at last."
Jarvis snickered.
"You know, usually when a woman says that to me we're in a more comfortable sit-"
"Oh shut up!"
The elf picked at a fold of her leggings until a bare thread was exposed. She pulled it out and broke it off. She moved across the cell and placed a hand on the slim bolt that locked the barred door closed. A few words of power and the piece of metal rusted all the way to the core. She chipped a sliver of metal off, laid it carefully over the thread, and closed her palm. A faint crackling noise echoed off the walls and a dim light shone through her hand, showing the ghostly bone. When Arien opened her hand, the twine was coated in a thin layer of metal. She set to work immediately, sawing away at the rusted bar. It worked better than Jarvis had envisioned. The lock severed and the door swung open. Jarvis darted out into the corridor and up the main hall a ways. He could hear the guards laughing in another room right across from him. Quickly he snatched the sack full of their belongings and paced noiselessly back to the cell.
The elf was sawing at the last bar. Jarvis belted his blades back onto himself and slung the pack over their shoulder. They hadn't even taken the books and food back. The last bar fell out of place and the elf caught it a second before it clanged on the stone floor. Quick as lightning, they eased out of the small opening and onto the outside of the castle. The elf awkwardly grasped the ledge behind her as they both balanced on the almost non-existent windowsill.
"It looked a lot less tall from the outside..." Jarvis mumbled as he tied a length of rope onto one of the stubs of broken bar. They slid down and onto the flagstones. The assassin stopped for a few seconds to breath in the free air.
"Come. We are not out of this yet." Arien whispered
After a short climb down the battlements, they were pounding down the side streets towards the outer wall. A few children were outside playing, but the otherwise the city was silent. It was just after dawn when they reached the last row of houses. The city gates loomed before them, like a giant maw frowning down upon them.
***
Erimus cracked his knuckles absentmindedly on the edge of his sword hilt. Beside him, his partner winced.
"Gods above, I hate it when you do that!"
Erimus pushed the other hand under his chin and the fingers emitted more popping noises. The other guard shoved him playfully. After a few minutes of silence, the man groaned.
"There is no more boring an activity than guard duty. GATE guard duty too. We don't even have the benefit of a good view like those lucky bastards over in the keep."
"Too true my friend."
Footsteps perked up Erimus's ears and he saw a young woman with a shawl pulled over her head shuffling towards the gate, head down. He urgently elbowed his partner in the ribs. The other man looked up and whispered excitedly to him.
"Our luck's about to change!"
She was even more beautiful up close. The shawl was threadbare and worn, and when she handed the guard her official release paper, he could see that her arms were pale as moonlight. Obviously some aristocrat, hoping to escape the new government.
"So, what is a pretty thing like yourself doing leaving the city, hm?"
"Yeah, you should stay, we'd be awful lonely without you." The other guard chimed in, barely suppressing a laugh.
The guards failed to notice two things. The first of which was that the "official" paper that the woman had handed them was covered in meaningless scribbles. The second was a dark shadow, that had been skirting the edge of the wall towards them for almost a minute. Erimus turned at the crunch of a shoe on broken glass. An open palm caught him square in the temple and he crumpled to the ground. The other guard turned on the woman, who had whipped off the disguise, and threw a desperate blow in her direction. With almost liquid grace, the elf leaned out of the way, hooked her leg around his, and tripped him backwards into the dirt. He was scrambling for his sword when the same pale hand that had handed Erimus that papers sailed out of nowhere and hit him in the adam's apple. His body went out like an extinguished candle. Arien took Jarvis's hand and pulled herself up.
"Nice punch."
The elf spared him a brief smile before they both exited the city. By the time the guards woke up, Arien and Jarvis were a distant spec in the vast eastern hills, well on their way to Melian.