[ELLE's PoV]

Where were we? Oh, right. Explosion, maybe-not-but-totally-possible time travel conundrum, exit stage right pursued by like twenty armored knights. Cool.

Once a villager singled Marc out in the crowd as being suspiciously hooded, suspiciously non-human, and suspiciously identical to one of the guys who just blew up the king, there was nothing we could do but run. Or, fly.

"Hold on tight!" Marc shouted as he grabbed me around the waist and materialized those big black wings. "This is gonna be rough."

And then we ran, and did an awkward little jump thing, and then suddenly we were in the air. With an especially uncool yelp-slash-squeal hissing through my lips like an overheated tea kettle, I clung to Marc with everything I had. Not my finest moment, but this did seem like a pretty life or death situation, and those probably get awkwardness passes. Or they should, anyway.

It was weird, flying. Like everyone imagines it or dreams about it or whatever, but actually flying was like... not even something I could really describe. It was especially weird that it was Marc.

Marc, who literally screamed the first time he saw a plane fly overhead, who was afraid to ride inside a car, who referred to bikes as "skeletal wheel-horses" which was... a whole other thing to unpack. Marc— who, despite being iffy about modern transportation, otherwise seemed right at home on earth with video games, sunglasses, microwaves, leather jackets, and skinny jeans— was flying with wings attached to his body like a god damn pigeon.

It was just plain weird. There was no other way to describe it, and its not like I really had the time to think about it with an armored death-squadron pursuing us.

We made it over the wall pretty quickly, and I thought for a moment that maybe we could go on like this all the way to Lumina. And I was about to ask Marc why he didn't just think of flying from the very beginning. Then the shooting started.

The first volley of arrows whizzed past us, but an arrow from the second caught Marc right in the wing— I knew because I felt his scream, and the warm splatter of blood, and the rush of air as we plummeted.

We hit a tree first, knocking the wind out of me and tearing feathers from Marc's wings with a sickening snap. The tree saved us from what would have been a killing (or at the very least bone-shattering) fall, but it still hurt. I was surprised to be conscious when we hit the ground. Marc was out cold, though.

This was it, then. The knights were upon us and we'd probably be dead any second. I pulled Marc against me, ignoring the way blood slicked my hands as I wrapped myself protectively around him. He was still breathing, he would be okay. I had to tell myself that or I would lose it. With one hand I fumbled for the pepper spray in my bag.

"Stay away from us! I mean it!" The knights approached us from all sides, and I whipped my dizzy head around to glare them each down individually. Even with the pepper spray canister aimed menacingly, they didn't stop coming. Of course not, they had no clue what pepper spray was. And why should they? I was in some god awful fantasy nightmare world. They probably didn't even know what germs were.

I sprayed the first knight that got close enough. Right through the visor of their helmet. They screamed and stumbled back, throwing their helmet off and grabbing at their eyes.

"Careful with that one, she's got a potion!" One of the other knights shouted.

Oh please.

But there were too many of them, and I couldn't run because Marc was injured in my lap, and they all had swords, and soon enough they were grabbing us. Someone pulled the pepper spray out of my hand and twisted my arm roughly behind my back while someone else yanked me to my feet.

"Be careful with him, he's hurt!" I shouted at the pair of knights who lifted Marc like he was a sack of flour.

I kicked and thrashed and all that did was get more and more knights on me. "Assholes!" I screamed, not that that would do me any good. "Treat his wounds at least!"

They ignored me. One of the knights who wasn't involved in the process of keeping mE contained grabbed my chin and pulled us face to face. He glared me down through the visor of his helmet—brown eyes into brown eyes. "She's fully human," he said.

"Shame she got mixed up with such a nasty creature," another added, nodding toward Marc. "D'you think it 'Spiritbonded' to her or whatever? That weird sex thing Aeternals do?"

"How about you shut up before I rip your spine out through your mouth?" I ground out. The threat sort of lacked its punch when I had roughly five armored individuals restraining me.

The knights only laughed.

Marc's wings were supposed to appear and disappear magically at his whim, but even though he was unconscious his big black wings were still corporeal. It was probably because of the arrow sticking out of them. They dragged limply across the grass as the knights carried him towards a large open-backed wagon sporting a handful of human-sized cages.

Awesome. Great.

They corralled me toward the same wagon, and I was powerless to fight against them. I was shoved unceremoniously into a straw-lined cage. Marc was tossed into the one next to me, the softest whimper leaving his lips.

"Ride ahead to Mournspring, let the warden know we're bringing two. A bird and a blood-traitor," one of the knights— the one who'd grabbed my face, I assumed he was the leader of the bunch— said to another. The other knight nodded without a word, mounted a horse, and was off.

"Warden?" I echoed, pushing myself onto my knees in the the tiny cage. "Are you seriously taking me to prison without a trial? What a joke."

The knights continued to ignore me as they nudged their horses into motion and the wagon jostled, tossing me back to the hay-strewn ground.

Honestly, I was just grateful they hadn't taken my backpack. At the very least I needed to keep track of the journal. My Luminous wasn't all that great yet, but from what Marc told me, that journal would be the most indispensable tool once I entered Lumina. Speaking of...

"Is Mournspring in Lumina?" I asked. I didn't expect much of an answer, but one of the knights riding along side the wagon was polite enough to give me a single nod in response. Alright, so they were bringing me to Lumina. That was one problem solved at least. Now for the question that was gnawing at the back of my mind the most...

I turned toward the knight fully, trying to figure out the best way to get the answer I was looking for. I couldn't exactly ask what year it was, because its not like the game material gave us an exact date for everything in SoL. I did however know that Prince Casimir would be twenty years old during Dark Reckonings, and that was information I could use. "Weird question, how old is the Prince?"

The knight on his horse glanced over at me out of the corner of his eye, then said, "His Royal Highness Casimir Hadrian Lousvar is seventeen as of this past spring."

Well, damn. A time travel conundrum it was. I had three years yet before Mags would even show up. In that case, maybe prison wasn't the worst place to be. I'd have somewhere to sleep, I'd get food every day. I didn't even do anything wrong besides associating with an angel, so how long would they lock me up for? A year, two? I could pass the time learning Luminous and memorizing everything I could from Frobisher's dream journal. By the time I got out, Mags would nearly be here, and I could be ready for her.

But first, and more immediately pressing: Marc.

He'd been tossed haphazardly into the cage beside mine, his wings crumpled at awful angles underneath him. He was breathing, but a miserable whimper of pain accompanied every exhale. Straw stuck to the blood coating his feathers.

I pushed myself up onto my knees, turning my attention once again to the knight who rode along side us. "Are you just going to let him suffer?" The knight didn't glance my way but given the way his grip on the reins tightened I knew he was at least listening. I pressed on, "Like, okay, he's a criminal and all, but he's in serious pain. At least bandage him up."

"I'm sorry miss, aiding a prisoner is against the law."

Absolute. Hellscape. "Well then let me do it. I'm already a prisoner so what'll they do, double lock me up?"

"You could be executed."

I scoffed. "For helping someone in need. I'm sorry, are you really positive you're the good guys in this situation? Because this? This definitely feels like something the bag guys would do."

The knight's grip on the reins tightened further. "Before long we'll stop for water. When that happens I will allow you a brief window to care for him."

"Gee, thanks."

The wagon jostled along, and at some point I was lulled into an uncomfortable, dreamless sleep by the steady clop clop clop of hooves. I woke to the knight tapping his sword against the bars of my cage.

"I've unlocked both your cages, but don't even think about running. There is nowhere for you to go and this forest is full of Shifters. Do what you must to stop his bleeding." Then the knight joined the others at the river's edge.

I did, very briefly, consider grabbing Marc and booking it. But he was considerably taller and heavier than me, and those wings probably added on a significant amount. Besides, he knew this world, I didn't. If he was down for the count I would get us lost or killed without a doubt. As much as it annoyed me, I did as I was told.

Luckily I'd packed a first aid kit in my bag. There wasn't much for dealing with an arrow wound, but there was at the very least Earth-antiseptics. I scrambled over to Marc's cage, bag in hand, and did my best to straighten out his battered wing. I definitely wasn't going to attempt to remove the arrow, but I did break off the two ends, leaving only a short chunk of the wooden rod in his wing.

I had just wiped the area free of blood and slathered it with Neosporin when Marc's clammy hand caught my own. "You need to take out the arrow."

I shook my head. "Marc, it could be saving you from seriously bleeding out. It's like when you get stabbed, you always gotta leave the knife in."

Marc opened one electric blue eye to barely a slit. He rasped, "if there's something in my wing like that, I can't retract them. If I can't retract my wings, I can't heal."

My eyebrows shot up. "You have healing powers? You definitely didn't have anything like that last week when you got a paper cut and whined like you were dying for hours."

"It's only my wings, and anyway, I couldn't access anything like that in your world." He shifted uncomfortably in the hay. "Demon, please."

"Okay, fine fine fine." I scrunched up my face and closed my eyes before closing my hand around the remaining stub of the arrow. With one swift tug and a pained yelp from Marc, it was out.

Marc sighed, then his wings evaporated into a glowing, shadowy mist before vanishing into nothing. "It will take a while, but soon they'll be good as new."

I tossed the bloody stick aside and sat back. "That's good at least."

"So," Marc sat up with a groan. "We're escaping now, right? We may not get another chance like this."

"You're still too weak, I'm not carrying you through a dangerous forest in the middle of the night." And besides, the knights were already on their way back up to the cart. The sorta friendly one— friendly enough to answer my questions and let me patch Marc up, anyway— gestured for me to move back to my own cage and handed me a small leather-wrapped canteen. I took a drink as he locked me up, then I passed the canteen to Marc. "How far away is Mournspring?"

"We'll be riding well past sun-up," he said, then hesitated, his hands on the keys. "I could let you ride the rest of the way in his cage, if you'd like. I imagine this is difficult for you."

"Yeah, it is difficult," I dead-panned. "Why would crowding both of us into one cage make it any easier?"

The knight shrugged and mounted his horse. The wagon jostled to life again. "Just figured you'd want the time to say goodbye, is all."

"Goodbye?" Nope. Nope, nope, did not like the sound of that. I took in the knights nervous shuffle on the back of his horse, the fear in Marc's eyes when I met his gaze for confirmation.

"Non-humans don't get the luxury of being prisoners, Demon," Marc said quietly, his index finger tracing a slow line across his throat.

My stomach dropped. Now that I knew what was waiting for Marc when we reached Mournspring, I was kicking myself for not running when we had the chance. Hell, I would have carried him through the forest all night if it kept him safe. Alive.

I didn't fall asleep again. Sleeping would basically guarantee me nightmares of whatever sort of execution was in store for Marc at the end of this journey.

I should have made him stay behind. I should have forced him to stay back in that manor. Instead I was all too happy to have him tag along, knowing full well what kind of danger awaited him. God, how selfish was I?

Marc tapped on the bars, and our hands found each other in the cold darkness. "I can see that frown," Marc whispered. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this. I asked to go with you. I knew what I was risking."

I shook my head, fighting the annoying lump in my throat. "I hate you."

Marc smiled. "Well, then this is awkward. All this time I've been reading our interactions as rather friendly, save for all the times you've threatened to kill me."

"You fool, you absolute buffoon, all this time those threats were real." it was meant to be a joke, but I couldn't manage to get any humor into my tone. Hand still firm on his, I leaned my head back against the bars of my cage. The bobby-pins holding my braids into a bun stabbed the back of my skull, sending an idea along with it.

I sat up a bit straighter, pushing myself to the edge of the cage, as close to Marc as the tiny space and the separation between us allowed. His hand still in mine, I guided it to my hair, to the pins there. Marc's eyes widened. I glanced over my shoulder at the knight with a pointed cough. "Would you please... give us a moment?"

Even through his helmet I could sense the knight's embarrassment in his posture. He nodded once, then spurred his horse a few yards ahead. No one was guarding us now.

"Alright, master of unlocking, do your stuff," I whispered as Marc slid two pins free. I undid the rest, letting my braids fall. "How are your wings?"

He shifted his shoulder blades as he worked quietly on his own lock. "Mostly healed, but they won't be able to carry both of us. We'll have to run on foot."

"Sorry," I murmured back, making myself comfortable in the cage. "That's not the plan— Remember they have arrows. You'll be faster and less bulky flying without me."

Marc stilled. "If you are implying what I think you're implying, you can forget it."

"It's not an implication, Marc. They want to kill you, they're only going to lock me up. You're leaving without me, no buts." I glanced toward the knights. Ours was talking to one of the others, nodding towards our cages, no doubt making remarks about how the tragic mismatched couple wanted time to say their final goodbyes. We didn't have long before someone would get curious. "Hurry up."

Marc was shaking now, but he undid his lock, catching the heavy iron thing before it hit the wagon floor. He slid the door of his cage open. Thankfully, it didn't creak. He crawled to the door of my cage. "I could undo yours just as fast. Please, run with me."

I shook my head. "We wouldn't make it. Besides, this isn't goodbye. You'll live, I'll spend a few years in prison, maybe start a fight club or something cool like that. We'll find each other again before too long. You think the law can keep legendary mobsters Marc and Elle down?"

We hugged awkwardly through the bars of the cage, our foreheads pressed together. I held my tears back, but Marc didn't bother. He cried freely, though quietly. "Thank you, Demon Woman, for everything. You have been my only friend. My best friend."

"Go."

In a flash of light and smoke, his wings materialized on his back and he spread them wide, catching them on the wind like a kite. The light definitely caught the knights' attention, but he was too high, too black against the night sky, too gone for their arrows to reach him.

Some of the knights shouted and swore, mine slowed his pace back to his usual position along side the carriage. "What the hell happened? Where did your bird go?"

I shrugged and stopped fighting my tears. "I don't know, he broke out somehow. He left me."

~*~

Mournspring was as dark and dreary as I expected it to be. High stone walls lined with spikes, metal barring every window even though they were too small for a human-sized person to escape through, dozens of armored guards patrolling the single entrance.

Escape was not going to be an option.

I sighed, holding my wrists out for one of the guards to cuff me and lead me through the gates into the massive prison. They took my bag, and the earth tech inside it. I would have paid actual money to be in the room when they went rooting through everything and had no clue what they were looking at. At least they let me keep the necklace on, and keep the journal tucked away in the pocket of my dirty travel pants.

They gave me new clothing to wear, drab gray prison-wear that matched the forty other criminals they shoved me in a big cell with. My crime? Associating with a non-human. That was really all they charged me with, and three years (with a chance for parole with good behavior and proper "repentance") was apparently a suitable punishment for that. No judge, no lawyer, I didn't even get to testify before a jury of my peers or whatever.

Absolute. Hellscape.

I didn't talk to any of the other prisoners. I ate my first meal of plain seeded bread and hard cheese without complaint. I laid down to sleep on the rock-hard cot they'd assigned me and stared out the tiny barred window at the purple tinted night sky, two moons staring back at me.

Through the coarse fabric of my shirt, my fingers closed around the blue rose pendant. There was always this. All I had to do was smash it and I could go home and forget all this. Rotting in jail for three years hadn't been part of the plan, or part of the deal. I was supposed to pop in, get Mags, pop out. Meira couldn't fault me for backing out, could she?

Marc was safe, Mags wasn't even here, so why should I stick around?

Yeah, right. Who was I trying to fool with this talk of backing out? I wasn't going anywhere. Magic pendant around my neck, mysterious journal in my pocket, I was seeing this stupid rescue mission through to the end.

"Wait for me, Mags," I muttered. "I'll see you soon."