"We are not permitted to choose the frame of our destiny. But what we put into it is ours."

- Dag Hammarshjold

                                                                            ***

Sirius could only gape at that. Caydryn didn't say any more, apparently content to just let his words sink in.

Honor-bound, just because Sirius hadn't turned him over to the Unseelie King once six hundred years ago. It was mind-boggling, in a way, that this male would even bother to repay his debt.

Sirius hadn't remembered the prince until now, and never would have thought to call upon anyone from Faerie for help. Even now, with Caydryn's words ringing in his ears, he wasn't sure trusting the prince was such a great idea.

Not that that had ever stopped him before.

The prince let out a heavy sigh and turned away from Sirius, his pale gaze straying to Rhys. He muttered, "I will attend to your friend while you..." Uncharacteristically—for a faerie—he seemed to run out of words and simply waved a vague hand at Sirius.

Before Sirius could think better of it and stop him, Caydryn was already across the columned hall. He knelt beside the witch, a damp cloth that smelled of eucalyptus and lavender in his hand. Rhys barely twitched as Caydryn began to swab the cloth over the still-closing cuts.

Sirius watched as Caydryn started muttering over Rhys, pale blue magic glittering around the tips of his golden claws. Color slowly began to return to the witch's face, his breathing becoming less labored. The faerie brushed a strand of indigo hair behind a slightly pointed ear.

"If you owed me just for letting you go that day," Sirius began, looking out over the mesmerizing shift of the ocean before turning back to the faerie, "then by my reckoning we're even. I let you go, you got us out of that pit. We're square."

Caydryn glanced over his shoulder, hand resting on Rhys' chest. He didn't so much as blink, staring at Sirius with that inscrutable ivory gaze. Then, his mouth curved into a sly smile, sharp canines glittering in the impossible golden sunlight.

"That's why I set a new price, boyo."

Sirius snarled, flashing his own canines. Caydryn's eyes flickered down to his mouth, his smile turning more feline. But all the prince did was turn back to Rhys, who was finally beginning to stir. 

Shaking his head, Sirius decided to put off thinking about Caydryn's new price and instead moved to stand on the other side of the bench. He watched as the witch frowned, then opened his eyes, gaze darting first to Caydryn, then to Sirius.

He lunged upright before gasping in pain, a hand coming up to his stomach.

"Slowly," Caydryn murmured, one hand on Rhys' shoulder to keep him from slumping backwards. "That she-devil has been working on you for—"

"Don't care," Rhys spat. He blinked twice, then brought his hands up. The holes through his palms still hadn't healed completely. 

It shocked Sirius when Rhys snickered and got to his feet, stumbling drunkenly. Again, the Seelie prince caught him, peering curiously down into the witch's face. Rhys cocked his head, staring back at Caydryn with the same interest.

Then he smirked and rasped, "You were the one speaking to me."

Brows drawing together, Sirius looked back and forth between them. 

"Your eyes are lovely," was all Caydryn said in reply. Rhys just nodded in agreement.

A surprised breath got caught in Sirius' throat and turned into a cough that made Rhys turn to him with a raised eyebrow. The witch snickered and brushed a few strands of silver-streaked hair from his face. "And here I was thinking you would get it more than anyone else."

Sirius scowled in confusion. "Get what?"

"Live long enough and you get bored with one flavor," Rhys said, giving Caydryn a sexy little smirk. "Males and females are different on a cellular level. It's a totally different dynamic to play with." His smirk sharpened. "The name of the game with immortality is keep it interesting."

Suddenly fatigued by the strange and more than slightly awkward direction this had taken, Sirius just shook his head in annoyance. Rhys winked at Caydryn, who grinned in return, eyeing him with a new sort of interest.

The male's voice turned husky as he said, "I don't think I've ever had a witch before."

That was just about enough. They could flirt later.

"Are you healed?" Sirius snapped. "We need to go. We've got things to do."

Rhys' eyes flickered between silver and green with irritation. Caydryn sucked in a small breath and took a step closer to the witch, but he only gave the male a glance of warning. "I sort of assumed that was the case, considering I woke up here and not in a cage," Rhys said. "So what are we..."

His words trailed off, his eyes going unfocused as Sirius thought of everything Hades had told him. After that, he showed Rhys the precarious nature of Galloway's condition. He kept a careful wall around the memory of that strange, grey space Hades had cast him into, ordering him to help steady her Soul. That he didn't want to share with anyone but Galloway.

Rhys' eyebrows drew together, his lips quirking into a frown. "That's why you pulled me out." He snorted. "And here I was thinking I'd just grown on you."

Sirius didn't answer. He didn't look away, but he didn't answer.

"You're gonna feed that little girl to Hades?" Rhys asked, voice neutral, but just a little too quiet.

Caydryn stayed silent, eyes dancing back and forth between the other two.

"You told Rick she wouldn't get hurt." Rhys crossed his arms, wincing slightly. His voice turned accusing. "You promised she wouldn't get hurt. You swore to Sekhmet that Rick would walk out of Hell. You're making an awful lot of promises, Sirius. And you aren't going to keep them."

"You also promised me an ideal," Caydryn interjected.

Rhys threw his arms up and paced away, running his hands through his hair before lacing his fingers behind his head. "Un-fucking-believable." He whirled back around. "You should know how to play this game, Sirius! You should know better."

Sirius gave him a bored expression. "Are you done?"

"No," Rhys hissed, flinging his arm out.

A wall of silver-green tinted magic smashed into Sirius, sending him sprawling across the floor. He lay on the marble for a moment, blood trickling from his nose and mouth. There was a soft grunt and the thud of knees on stone.

"Too soon," Caydryn murmured as Sirius sat up. The faerie knelt beside Rhys. "Too soon to use your magic, witchling."

A weak snort came from Rhys as he struggled to sit up. "I haven't been a witchling in nearly 150 years."

"Only 150," Caydryn teased, palm pressing against a cut that had reopened itself. "You're practically a child."

Sirius growled and spit to the side, his blood marring the pale perfection of the marble floor. He used his shirt to wipe the blood from his nose and got to his feet. Stumbling slightly, his ears ringing, he made his way past where Caydryn was hovering over Rhys.

The prince looked up. All Sirius said was, "Come find me when he's ready to go."

"You can't leave this place without my help," Caydryn said, his voice so dry and matter-of-fact that Sirius couldn't even find the energy to snarl at him. He just shrugged, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his filthy jeans as he continued to walk away.

Once he was lost in the forest of columns, he heard Rhys mutter, "Who are you, anyway?" A few seconds passed, then he said, "Why are you helping him?"

"Why are you?" Caydryn returned mildly. There was the shuffle of cloth as Rhys dressed—Sirius assumed—in whatever Caydryn had given him.

Sirius hesitated, one hand resting against a marble column. He couldn't see the ocean anymore, but the hiss and crash of waves that possibly didn't exist filled his ears.

He almost missed it when Rhys said, "The woman he's here for is a friend. I'm not here to help him. This is about her."

The witch's answer very nearly made him wilt in relief. It had always been about her.

"But you feel something for him," the faerie pressed. "Otherwise, he would not make you so furious."

Rhys was quiet for a long moment, then laughed, the sound a little strained. "Obviously, you haven't spent very much time around him. Sirius' one true talent is his ability to piss off man and god alike."

True enough.

"It's why we're here to begin with," Rhys continued, his voice even quieter. Sirius took a step back toward them, ears straining to hear.

"What do you mean," Caydryn asked, not a hint of confusion in his voice. "You said you were here for a woman."

"I am. We are." Rhys sighed, then coughed in pain. "She's here because of Hades. I never figured out if he picked Galloway because of Sirius, or if he sent Sirius because of Galloway." There was a small shuffling sound as Rhys sat back down with a groan. "It doesn't really matter either way. They made choices, and now we've all bled as a consequence." A dark laugh. "And we'll keep bleeding."

A small silence fell, letting those words sink in. Sirius closed his eyes, bile rising in the back of his throat. Rhys was right—one way or the other it was his fault.

So it was his responsibility to fix what he had broken.

He very nearly turned around to tell the witch exactly that, but Caydryn asked in a low voice, "You knew that was the price for returning to Hell. You told me so yourself."

"I told you a lot of things while they carved into me," Rhys murmured. "Not everything was true."

"You told me that this was your fault, not the Hound's."

Sirius swayed lightly, placing a hand on the cool marble of the column to ground himself. Another long silence floated around them, making the click of claws on stone almost unbearably loud.

"It's..." Rhys snorted. "You could make the argument that all three of us are responsible. Sirius, myself and one of the other Hunters. We all had a hand in some piece of this. Which is probably why we're here to begin with."

"You wouldn't have come for this woman if you did not feel responsible?" The lack of judgement in Caydryn's voice grated on Sirius' nerves. Rhys didn't immediately answer. Caydryn pressed, "You do not love her."

"I don't love anyone." Rhys' voice was so bleak and terrible that Sirius blinked in surprise.

But the faerie just laughed. "You humans. So dramatic. There is one person you love, but he is not who Sirius hunts." There was a small pause. "Who is the girl you spoke of?"

"You tell me why you're here," Rhys snapped. "Maybe I'll tell you."

"Can you not simply read it?" There was deep amusement in Caydryn's voice.

"You know I can't," Rhys said irritably. "Not unless you show me. And you're not going to because you're Fae. You'd much rather leave me dangling on a string."

"Dramatic indeed," Caydryn murmured and Sirius couldn't help but snort. Then the faerie sighed. "I am here because I wish to be. Sirius once spared my life when he had no right to, and I admit a certain...curiosity. He is a rare creature, much like you with your eyes like the Old Forests, and there is potential in his life. Whether that potential—that drop of destiny I sense—will be great or terrible remains to be seen."

"And you wish to see it?" Rhys said, skepticism dripping from his tone. "That drop of destiny?"

"Don't you?"

Rhys didn't respond and Sirius let himself sink to the ground, sliding down the slick marble. He stared blankly at the pale floor, mulling that over. Destiny.

Destiny was a bunch of bullshit.

Galloway's destiny had been played like a fiddle, to the tune Hades chose. He had arranged everything, wove every little detail into the tapestry of her life, funneling her down to this very point. She'd had no choice in it—hadn't been able to pick her path.

Hades had charted a course, and she'd been dragged down it, her real life stolen from her.

"If she'd kept her real life, you wouldn't have met her."

Sirius flinched at the nearness of Rhys' voice. He looked up to find the witch staring down at him, eyes blazing with either hatred or wrath. Caydryn stood back a little ways, face unreadable—nearly bored.

Before Sirius could so much as open his mouth to respond, Rhys said, "Galloway made choices, Sirius. Just like we all did. She decided to make a Deal. She decided to keep hunting." Rhys' mouth twisted with fury. "She decided to fall for you. So yeah, Hades tangled the strings of Fate, but don't you dare take away what she's done for herself."

"So this is her fault?" Sirius said, voice lethally calm. He curled his fingers into loose fists, his nails scraping against his palms.

Rhys shook his head, expression bitter. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Then say what you mean," Sirius hissed, a growl rising in his throat.

"Just because Hades was playing the tune doesn't mean she was dancing to it." He gave Sirius a cutting look. "That's more your thing."

Sirius growled again but didn't deny it. He couldn't, and it didn't really matter that he'd never had a choice. The words lingered in Rhys eyes—he had a choice now.

"No one has to die if he plays the game right."

Caydryn's words sent a chill down Sirius' spine as he repeated the last thing Hades had said to him. Rhys turned as the faerie took a step toward them. His ivory eyes traced over Sirius shrewdly. 

Then the prince turned to Rhys. "He doesn't need your help to find this girl in Purgatory. He could have used you as a trading chip to get your brother to release her into Sirius' care." He shrugged elegantly. "It might make you ask yourself why he dragged you out of that pit to begin with. Why he decided to deal with me."

Rhys grew very still, not giving any indication that he'd really heard what Caydryn was saying. Sirius, for his part, turned his attention to forging an ironclad wall around his thoughts. There was nothing about that decision that he wanted the telepath to see. It would only give him a foothold in his thinking that he could turn Sirius from this path.

"What about Rick?" 

The quiet question forced Sirius to turn his attention outward. He blinked once at the witch, his throat going dry for a moment. Then he forced himself to say, "What about him?"

A sound of disgust came from the witch. He met Caydryn's eyes, something silent passing between them and the prince nodded, the movement shallow.

Rhys turned to Sirius, not even trying to veil his contempt. "Let's just go to Purgatory. Let's get this over with. If you want to break those promises, that's really not my problem."

"Is he good to go?" Sirius asked, ignoring Rhys' barb and addressing Caydryn.

The faerie shrugged. "He's well enough."

That was good enough for Sirius. He got slowly to his feet, soreness still lingering in his muscles from every beating he'd taken in the past...

He blinked slowly, looking at Rhys, then Caydryn. "Do either of you know how long we've been down here?"

Rhys blanched and shook his head, the silver strands of his hair glimmering. His eyes turned hollow with whatever he was remembering, and his hands drifted up to lightly touch his chest over his heart, then down to his stomach.

Caydryn watched Rhys with what was possibly pity. Then he glanced at Sirius. "You've been in the arena every day for what amounts to a human month." He lightly touched Rhys' shoulder. "I did not see every night he presented you for entertainment, so I do not know truly how long he has been using you."

If Rhys had been paying more attention, he probably would have noticed Caydryn flinching as the near-lie burned his tongue.

Sirius only nodded, not caring to press for details. A month was shorter than he had assumed, but that wasn't exactly a comfort when you'd spent that month in Hell. He cast another glance at Rhys, but it was clear that the witch was too deeply entrenched in his own mind to care much about what they were talking about.

So he turned to Caydryn, ignoring the sideways glances the prince kept sending Rhys. "Do you have weapons? My claws will work just as well in Purgatory as they do in here. But I can't protect all three of us until Purgatory presents you with something."

Caydryn shot him a mildly offended look. A baldric of fine, dark leather shimmered into being over his white shirt, the hilt of a finely wrought sword peeking over his shoulder. Nothing in Sirius doubted his ability to use the weapon.

One more sideways glance from the prince had Sirius sighing deeply. He clapped Rhys on the shoulder, making the witch snap his head toward Sirius. He blinked several times, visibly pulling himself back to the present moment.

Sirius wasn't about to pry. All he could offer the witch was commiseration, and that wasn't going to help them with anything. Instead, he asked, "What about you? Purgatory isn't a walk in the park." He managed a smirk. "It's more like a safari where you can get eaten if you're not good enough."

More silver-green magic crackled at the witch's fingertips, but there was no venom in his words when he said, "I'll be fine."

Sirius studied him for a moment, not really believing him. But he didn't have the time or the inclination to make sure the witch was going to be okay. They could lick their wounds when they were free, not before.

So he just turned to the prince and said, "Get us out of here and I'll lead us to Purgatory."

Caydryn didn't so much as hesitate. He simply turned and began walking. Sirius made sure Rhys began to follow, then kept just a step or two behind him. The faerie prince led them down the seemingly never-ending hall of white marble. The sound of the ocean never quieted. They didn't seem to ever truly move through the space. 

Then Sirius found himself blinded by a blue-white light. Pressure wrapped like bands of iron around his chest, compressing his lungs. Rhys made a soft choking sound, his heart pounding so hard it beat into Sirius' ears like a drum.

The pressure released, making his ears pop and he sucked in a breath. Rhys began coughing so violently he retched, doubling over in front of Sirius. Caydryn couldn't quite hide his laugh in a cough of his own.

"Leaving the fair places of the world are never so pleasant as entering them," he said after a moment, keeping an admirably straight face.

Rhys regained his feet, wiping at his mouth. New blood shone wetly on the pale grey shirt Caydryn had given him. The nearly healed wounds on his stomach had split once again. Caydryn's amusement faded completely and he went back to the witch. Blue magic spiraled around his fingers.

While Caydryn went to Rhys' side, Sirius edged around them and began to scent the air, looking for the telltale smoke-and-decay scent of a portal to Purgatory. Caydryn's little side trip to a part of Faerie had disoriented him, and it was taking him a moment to find the direction they needed to head.

Or that's what he told himself as he listened to Caydryn murmuring to the witch. Sirius blocked out the words, not caring to really hear how the male's voice turned to something soothing and kind.

It wasn't until Rhys was back on his feet that Sirius decided he knew which way they needed to go. He waved at the other two over his shoulder, motioning for them to follow him down the hall.

None of them spoke as he led them down long, dark halls and staircases crusted with dried blood. It wasn't until the air started smelling like death that Sirius' steps began to falter. A wide cavern ballooned out around them. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, their tips sharp as swords pointing down at them.

A wind began to pick up, drawing them toward a small, crumbling temple in the exact center of the cavern.

They approached with care, the wind picking up with every step, like it was trying to suck them in. Flashes of lightning became visible through the columns.

His hair whipping in his eyes, Sirius turned to the others. Rhys was grimacing, squinting against the howling wind, but Caydryn didn't appear particularly bothered even as the thorns in his hair clattered together.

"This one's not as bad as the one into Hell," Sirius yelled, more for Caydryn's benefit than Rhys', even though he was speaking mostly to the witch. "But we won't all land in the same place."

"So do we find each other then go looking for Logan?" Rhys asked, a muscle fluttering in his jaw.

Sirius shrugged. "If we can. Purgatory pulls everything toward its center, and that's where Logan and A-Alex"—he grimaced as he stumbled over her name, eyes flicking to Rhys then away—"are waiting for us there anyway. So it might be easier to just head to the middle and meet up there."

When no arguments were put forward, Sirius turned back and began heading toward the portal again, the worn treads of his boots sliding over the smooth cavern floor. He caught himself on one of the columns, the wind grabbing at him like greedy hands.

He looked over and found himself meeting Rhys' eyes.

A tendril of thought trailed over the walls around his mind. Since even he couldn't have hoped to hear anything above the screaming wind, Sirius opened his mind a crack.

He likes you, you know. He even trusts you.

That was all Rhys said before his thoughts retreated. Sirius opened his mouth, but Rhys let go of the pillar he was holding onto. His body flew toward the portal, his outline wavering and blurring like the portal was dissolving him.

Caydryn followed, leaving Sirius alone with Rhys' words for a moment.

Then he shoved it to the side and let go, letting the wind carry him to Purgatory.