Two weeks. It had been two weeks since his failed excursion to the rooftop, and neither Calrock nor Kier had deigned to make an appearance. Bilara had been feeding him all she knew—or all she was willing to share—about the Obelisk and his seeds of a plan had started to germinate. But he couldn't put them into action until Calrock finally put his own plan into action.

Sedgewick thumped his head against the cold wall. Condensation wet his hair, brought in from the fog he could see blocking the sun from the window far above. "Do you think he is trying to break me through boredom?" he asked, considering the merits of counting the number of stones to the window. It was twenty up and three across, which would have been a total of sixty if not for a smaller stone near the bottom to mend an ill-fitting gap two stones had made. Sixty-one.

"There are worst torture techniques," Bilara answered dully. Her eyes were closed and her head tilted back. The bruise on her face had faded almost completely now.

"I'm beginning to disagree." He turned to her as a distraction from counting stones again. "Do you ever wonder about how in the First Age we had towers made of almost seamless stone? The technique is lost now. How does such knowledge vanish? Could it happen again? Are we destined to repeat history? And if we do, is it because of us or some divine force?"

"If you've decided to go mad, you could ramble about something more interesting."

"Care to put in a request?" he asked. His lips twitched slightly. An irritated Bilara was at least a slight mental diversion. His mind almost instinctively began to count stones again. Gates, was it possible to throw up from boredom?

"Why don't you recite what I taught you?" she suggested, although her eyes never opened.

Sedgewick closed his eyes as well. His imagination conjured a mental image of the Black Obelisk based on Bilara's description. "The tower is split into six segments. The three separated spires at the top and three sectors toward the bottom."

"Name the spires."

"Tal Voth, which we are in, Tal Rok, which holds more prisoners, and Tal Kel, which is most likely devoted to Calrock's private research."

"And the sectors?" She opened one eye slightly.

"They're connected by a magic-powered lift that Calrock can stop at a moment's notice. There are no stairs."

"And what is in the way of the lift?"

"Whatever manner of magic Calrock placed throughout the halls leading to it."

"If by some miracle, we get to the bottom..."

"A garrison of soldiers will lie between us and the only bridge stretching over the drop," Sedgewick finished. "Some would call it impossible."

Bilara opened both eyes now. "But not for us."

"How do you know the general layout?" he asked.

The room was dim, but he swore her mouth twitched. "How did an Onryxian become an Abreylian spy?"

"I'm not from Onryx," Sedgewick snapped.

"Hmm. It looks like we'll both have to remain full of mysteries then, Sedgewick." She dropped into silence again.

He glared at her, but Bilara's eyes were closed again. Why had he snapped so? She couldn't have known. He didn't even like where he was from. The Elberic Peaks could crumble down about its residents' ears for all he cared. But Onryx...No. He didn't want any association with Onryx. They'd attacked the only home he'd ever cared to stay in.

But you need her to get out, he reminded himself. "A secret for a secret," he offered, whisking the silence away with his words.

Her violet eyes fluttered open and her voice rang rich and low. "Go on."

"I was born in the Elberic Peak. I live in Abreyla now. I turned spy to help a friend...and keep a promise," Sedgewick said the last part half to himself.

"What promise?" Her head tilted in curiosity.

"That would be another secret. Your turn," he leaned his head back against the wall and waited.

Bilara snorted but didn't argue the point. "I wasn't originally brought here to be imprisoned," she said quietly after a moment.

Sedgewick raised an eyebrow. Had she been working with Calrock? It would explain his desire for her to finally "cooperate" as he'd said. But clarifying would require him to reveal more about himself and the thought of what questions she might ask made his skin go as clammy as the wall.

They drifted back into silence, leaving Sedgewick to turn this new information over in his mind. Hours passed until the undeniable sound of a lock clicking opened hit his ears. The heavy door groaned as it was pushed open. Sedgewick bit down his rising hope with a sneer while Calrock entered the room, Kier hanging behind him like a malignant shadow.

Calrock ignored him, heading straight for Bilara instead. "Are you ready to behave yourself?"

Bilara's violet eyes flashed and even though he was there when they had decided on the plan, he still couldn't help his quick hiss of breath as she let those eyes drop submissively to the floor. "Fine," she spat out, but it sounded more tired than her usual bite.

Calrock tilted her head back up in an almost paternal manner. "Speak properly."

A tremor shook her jaw. Her breath caught on her next word. "Yes, I am ready, Uncle."

"Good." And he looked genuinely pleased. "Unlock her," he commanded Kier.

Kier's nostrils flared. "We can't trust that she'll—"

"I didn't say remove her cuffs. Only her chains."

Kier pulled out his key and unhooked the chains from her cuffs. Bilara stood, brushing her dark hair back and staring Calrock evenly in the eyes.

"I'm glad to see you returning to your proper place. Escort her to Tal Kel," Calrock ordered Kier. Bilara gave the captain a toothless smile with no less bite before she was escorted away

Uncle? Another secret now spilt. The method was less satisfying than the one they'd shared.

"Surprised, young Mage Alverdyne?"

"Pleased. I might actually sleep without her sickly bright eyes burning me. Are all your captives so intolerable?"

Calrock chuckled. "She has a habit of generating dislike." He waved his hand and a key flew from his pocket to Sedgewick's chains. They slipped free of his cuffs and clanged to the floor. "But enough about my niece. Now it's time for you to begin your work." Silver magic swirled into fire above his palm, casting spidery shadows where his fingers covered the flame. "As a precaution. But I don't believe we shall have any trouble, shall we?"

"I want to see my apprentice."

"Proof that he is alive? Very well, if you require evidence of my word, please follow."

Sedgewick stepped out of his cell and promptly had another bag shoved over his head. He sighed and stumbled forward in the dark once again.

They traveled down then up. Sedgewick reached out his hand and used his blindness as an excuse to touch and count the number of archways they passed by. He seared it into his mind and added the image to the mental map Bilara had him construct. He would need it. Not today, not even tomorrow, but someday soon. And when he did, he wanted to know exactly how many steps separated him from his apprentice.

Somewhere in front of him, a heavy door creaked open. The sound was reminiscent of his own cell. Someone ripped the sack free from his head.

And there, chained to the wall as he had been, slumped Orivian.

Sedgewick nearly bolted to the boy but one of the soldiers wrenched him back. "Rivian!"

"Let him go," Calrock said. "It will prove it's not an illusion."

Sedgewick shoved the guard off of him and ran. He dropped beside the younger man and shook his shoulder, his voice falling into a sharp whisper. "Rivian?"

Rivian's mouth grimaced, cracking open the bloody scabs scattered across it. Like he'd been struck, repeatedly. Anger boiling, Sedgewick shook him again, and finally, his eyes pried awake. "Master Alverdyne?" Then Rivian's eyes snapped fully open. "You're alive!" he said, and his voice cracked in a way that proved he was too young to be here. "I thought—" The shadows of Calrock and the guards hit his face and darkened all joy. "Why are you here with them?" he asked, all traces of boyish relief vanished.

"Your 'Master' has agreed to help me with a little project," Calrock answered for him.

Rivian's body shook underneath the grip of his hand. His head turned to Sedgewick, but his eyes drifted back to Calrock. Slowly, he began shaking it 'no', the moment growing more rushed and frantic with every second. "No."

"Look at me, lad. Look at me. Orivian, please! I need you to—"

"Get off me!" He jerked his shoulder free of Sedgewick's hand and curled back against the wall.

"You don't understand what's going on here!" Sedgewick watched as Rivian remained tucked against the wall. His frame looked gaunt and his hair hung about his face in dirty clumps. Red gashes circled his wrists, peeking out from underneath the essantium cuffs he hadn't been able to remove. "Trust me, lad. You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt..." Abreyla was the implication, but hopefully not one that the Onryxians behind him would pick up.

Rivian's lips narrowed to a hard line, but his chin lifted back up. Understanding? Defiance?

Sedgewick swallowed, wishing he could wordlessly convey the loyalty and bonds that still tied them to each other and to the kingdom. Instead, he stared until Rivian's betrayed scowl became too much. He stood, whirling to face Calrock so fast that the guards placed a hand to their weapons. "I'll need help with the discs. Let me have him with me so he can—"

"Your apprentice remains here," Calrock said swiftly. "Ask for him again and I will be forced to lessen the...comfort of his accommodations." The guards snickered like Calrock had referenced some private joke. The punchline was unlikely to be pleasant. "No, I have a different helper in mind for you. Try to keep your dislike from interfering with your upcoming work."

Sedgewick seethed outwardly but kept his real thoughts locked within. Getting Rivian had been unlikely. But if the plan he'd forged with Bilara pulled through, then it wouldn't matter.

****************

Author's Note: Well between finishing Magic's Memories, taking a break, and being sick, it's been a minute but we're back! Not entirely happy with this one but oh well. Will Rivian trust Sedgewick? What's happening with Bilara?