The fanfares resounded without interruption through the corridors of the palace and made Ares slide impatiently back and forth in his bed as far as his injured fin would allow him. What was happening beyond his reach? Anaya had been gone for some time now and the guards who had positioned themselves outside his room shortly after her disappearance did not say a word about the current situation.
"What is going on here? Will someone explain to me why the alarm is being sounded?", Ares still tried to get answers from the silent guards.
But in vain, they ignored him as if he were nothing more than a valuable object to be protected from a thief. Ares realised that in his condition he could do very little on his own, should someone ill-disposed towards him turn up, but he should still be informed.
"Heeeeeeellloooooo...," he continued in a long drawn-out attempt to get the attention of the two guardsmen.
"Prince Ares, there is an intruder within the palace walls. Please keep quiet," one of the guards then took pity on him, but earned an annoyed look from his colleague and then quickly fell silent again.
So they finally remained in their tense silence. There was nothing more to be done. Orders were orders and if they came from the very top, and they certainly did in such an exceptional situation, there was nothing the heir to the throne could do but obey. He wasn't even sure himself whether he wouldn't get stupid ideas as soon as he knew more.
"Seize the intruder!" the captain of the guard elsewhere urged his men to apprehend the unwanted guest.
This was not what Phobos had imagined. It had been so easy the first time. They had got in and out of the palace so easily. It had been very naïve of him to think that it would work again. Shaking all over, he now cowered in one of the dark corners, hoping not to be found. Again and again, guardsmen with drawn weapons swam past his hiding place. He didn't know how long this would last, but surely he wouldn't be able to hide here forever. They knew he was here and would not rest until they found him.
Just as he thought this, one of the guards stopped in front of the statue he was hiding behind. Phobos saw the latter frown critically. He slowly swam past the ornate effigy of the former ruler on the right, driving Phobos around to the left. Now the young ray had only one option. He had to flee into the nearest alcove and hope that he would not be seen doing so. He gathered all his courage, briefly cast an assuring glance into the passage and then let himself slide to the next statue. A statue that, he realised, was perfect to serve him as a hiding place.
He knew this king. Everyone knew him, but especially for a ray like him, the face he looked into was all too familiar. He had been told many stories. Stories that were probably interpreted very differently here in Atlantica than in his homeland. This man was one of the two most important reasons why Phobos was so unwelcome here. The merman pictured was the first and so far the only ruler who had surrounded himself with rays. Three of them had never left his fin and a whole army of them had made sure that the king's laws were enforced throughout the empire. Not infrequently they had resorted to violence to do so. A reign of terror without equal had developed from this. Fear had been omnipresent.
Phobos could understand very well that the Atlantians never wanted to live under such circumstances again. He, too, could think of few things more terrible. Now, however, the old king asked him for the perfect cover.
Two of his of the rays had been worked with him from the grey stone. Phobos lay down on the stone ray, which, as a piece of clothing as noble as it was extravagant, nestled over the ruler's shoulder.
From then on it was a matter of keeping still for Phobos and suppressing as best he could the feeling that gave him his name. His heart was pounding so hard, however, that he feared it would betray him.
He saw the guardsman emerge from the shadows of the alcove again - and now swim straight towards him. Phobos forced himself to close his eyes with the greatest effort to complete his camouflage.
A few anxious moments passed and Phobos was already imagining what punishment would await him when he was brought before the king.
"Did you find anything?" another guardsman's voice suddenly echoed from further away.
"I thought I saw something there, but..." he answered his colleague, then faltered as if something else had caught his attention and then continued, "Say, Kronos statue...?"
"What about it?" the other asked with a slightly annoyed undertone. Apparently he didn't want to waste any more precious time with his colleague pressing around.
Phobo's heart was now beating up to his throat.
Now they had him.
It was over.
He hadn't made it.
"...Was it always so masterfully crafted?" the first finished his question, approaching Phobos so close that he could feel the resulting swirl of water.
"We really have better things to do now than admire the craftsmanship of the lion stone mason that son of a bitch commissioned back then to make a monument for himself. I don't even understand why the king didn't get rid of that thing a long time ago," the other ruled, urging them to finally get on with the search.
"But look, it seems so insanely real. That must have been a true master of his art," the guardsman continued to admire the statue that looked so lifelike.
Phobos held his breath, but he would not be able to stand this for much longer. He fervently hoped that the guardsman would finally let himself be persuaded by the other to continue looking in another place.
"I wonder...", Phobos heard him whisper, however.
"What are you up to," the other asked in an alarmed tone.
"Wouldn't it be the perfect hiding place. On display, as it were? Right under our noses?" the first guardsman asked seeking confirmation of his theory.
"Don't be ridiculous. Even a ray wouldn't be that stupid. Come on, let's keep looking. The captain won't be pleased if he finds out we're bothering with such nonsense," the second guardsman dismissed the idea lightly.
Silence reigned again.
Then Phobos could hear a blade being drawn from its sheath in front of him.
"Hey, hey, I wasn't that serious about getting rid of it," he heard the more distant guardsman comment on the situation, which he could only mentally visualise at the moment.
Shortly afterwards he heard the blade collide with the stone, but the expected stab had failed to materialise. By all appearances, the guard had drilled his weapon into the second of the rays.
"Are you crazy? If you damage that thing unnecessarily you'll be in trouble!" the guardsman warned in panic.
"If we don't check this out and he leads us around by the nose with it we'll have very different problems than incurring the wrath of a probably long-dead stonemason," he argued against it.
Again Phobos felt slight swirls of the water and then exactly what he had been afraid of all along. A sharp pain pierced through one of his fins.
He could no longer keep his eyes closed, but this was completely unnecessary, the slight streaks of blood had already given him away.
"Gotcha, friend," the guardsman hissed at him as he looked him straight in the eye triumphantly.
"I don't believe it now..." the second guardsman remarked, stunned.
"Well, that's why my pay is twice as much as yours," the found guardsman joked.
"We're going to take you away now. I'd better advise you not to get any ideas, ray," the guardsman urged Phobos to cooperate.
"Give the signal," he instructed his colleague and he followed the order instantly, "and you come with me now."
"Please I must speak to the king," Phobos pleaded desperately.
"Oh, you will talk to him, but first you will enter our dungeon," the guardsman opened to him a prospect of his near future.
"Go forward that way and remember no games or you will feel this one," he urged the ray down the corridor, reminding him of the spear pointed at him.
Phobos obeyed, after all he had no choice. His plan had gone absolutely awry. How was he now to convince the ruler in time that he had important information?
"Stop," the guardsman stopped him after they had reached the lower floors of the palace. The second guardsman knocked on a door and a small window opened, through which a small fish demanded to be expelled. The guard had no trouble satisfying him and so the door to the palace's own prison wing opened.
"Welcome to your new home," the guardsman said, opening one of the cells.
Phobos followed his guiding hand and slid into the dark cave alcove.
"Ah, wait, there's something missing," the second guardsman stopped him.
Phobos followed him with his eyes and saw him pull out a finch.
"What are you going to do? We can't even put those on him," the first of the two remarked.
"Just let me do it, I have an idea. In any case, we can't just put him in here, he could easily get through the bars," the other explained.
The first guardsman watched his colleague critically as he approached the ray with the clamp and a pair of pliers.
Phobos cowered fearfully in the furthest corner of his prison.
"I won't escape, I promise. Please leave me alone," he pleaded, pressed against the wall.
But the guardsman did not listen at all to what he said. He grabbed one of the wing flippers and applied the cuff.
Now Phobos could understand in his own body the pain Ares had gone through. He cried out in agony.
"Are you insane? What have you done there? We're going to be in huge trouble!" the first guardsman tackled the other.
"Calm down. It's just a ray. No one cares how we handle him," Phobos' tormentor defended himself.
"You'll answer for that, that's for sure!" the guardsman voiced his unconvinced opinion, while the other shrugged and swam out, closing the prison door behind him.
Phobos sank powerlessly to the floor. Shocked, he could not take his eyes off his right wing fin, which now had a bloody hole and an accessory he could very well have done without. With all his might, this guy had closed the clamp without any consideration for hurting him. Escape was now impossible.
What had he got himself into?
Was it all worth it?
Wouldn't he have been better off just carrying on as before?
No! No, he was not allowed to just carry on. He had to keep fighting, he couldn't lose heart. He only had this one chance left, he would never be able to forgive himself for letting it pass because he was lost in self-pity.
So he tried to classify his situation by exploring his surroundings. He could not see who was being held in the cells next to his, but Phobos heard a disturbing, slurping whisper from what was probably an alcove in one of the farthest corners. Whatever was making these sounds, the young ray was sure that he never wanted to meet this creature in his life. So he tried to block out the whispering as best he could and concentrate on other sounds. It helped a lot that the cave that directly bordered his seemed to be inhabited by a very talkative gangster boss. Phobos could well imagine that his henchman, with whom he obviously shared the cell, was not having an easy time of it, given the constant humiliation he had to endure.
Phobos realised that just eavesdropping would probably not provide him with enough information. Cautiously, he tested his existing freedom of movement and the pain that came with it. He found out that, as long as he put up with the pain, he could easily reach the bars that bounded his cell.
Once there, he let his gaze wander along the opposite side. From this position, he had a view of other cells and inmates who had apparently been down here a lot longer than he had. Opposite him, he could only make out a black, billowing mass at first glance. But when he looked closer, he saw the head of a woman with a pair of almost hypnotic eyes. Beautiful long lashes framed the glowing yellow iris and Phobos had to tear himself away from the sight with all his might. Quickly he let his gaze wander on. Next door, he could make out a green-scaled luminescent perch, who was loudly discussing with the guards that his sentence had long since been served and that he wanted to be released right away. It seemed to Phobos that this spectacle often took place. At least the guards had no ambition to listen to his demands. The annoying voice of the perch would certainly give him a headache if he was held here for a long time, which unfortunately seemed to be the case at the moment. The ray turned away from the unpromising fish and continued his search in the other cells. There he found, among others, two crocodiles, which, however, remained quiet on the surface, and in the last cell visible to him, an aging mermaid, who probably wanted to make it clear to everyone with her choice of clothing that she knew how to dress appropriately even under these adverse circumstances. A black and white striped fin coat and matching top stood in stark contrast to her violet hair. Blanking out her surroundings, she shaped her fingernails with a blunt file. A truly colourful bunch presented itself to the young ray. Phobos wondered what all these inmates had done to end up here, but was soon sure that he didn't want to know. He could hardly imagine that anyone else was here who, like him, had been more or less innocently detained. Which made his plan to get out of here seem very unlikely. After all, these were real criminals whose minds were busy day in and day out finding loopholes in the system and exploiting them for their own ends. The longer Phobos thought about it, the less hope there was of getting out of here quickly. If these others had not managed to escape, how could he?