My Brother's Keeper: Ch. 12

Chapter 12: Freedom

Pharcipeo twisted around as best he could, tugging at his rope restraints. The small post he was attached to allowed practically no movement about the room. Turning his head, he pressed his pointed ear to the wall. He was almost sure he had heard Rexathor's voice.  Then again, it could have very well been his imagination. But if it was truly him…

"Prince? Is that you?" he whispered as loudly as he dared. He didn't want to think what would happen if the guard posted outside the door heard him.

"Pharcipeo?" the voice hissed back.

"Oh praise be to the heavens," the boy barely breathed. He beamed brightly, his ice-blue eyes sparkling to life. "Oh it is you! I'm in serious trouble."

There was a slight shifting from outside. Rexathor spoke again, but this time his voice sounded more focused as if his friend was just opposite his ear. "That was sure quick! Are you being held?"

"Yes," he hissed back. "My wrists and ankles are bound. I can't get out on my own. I'm in some sort storage area. There must be hundreds of swords up on these walls."

There was a beat of silence. "Have you tried knocking one down to cut the bonds?"

Pharcipeo rolled his eyes, wincing slightly in pain as he did. "I've tried! But there is a guard out front. He heard me banging around, and, uh, made sure that I wouldn't do it anymore."

The deep blue welt around one eye and the slightly torn lip were proof of that. A quick sweep with his tongue told him the lip had stopped bleeding, but it was still as sore as ever. A sharp twinge of pain shot through his face, forcing him to stop.

"Well I've got to get you out of there," came the prince's voice again.

"But the guard! He's sure to raise an alarm."

"Wait!" came a voice so quiet, so low, that if it weren't for Pharcipeo's istusen ears, he would have never heard it. "I…I think I can help."

The boy could hardly believe his own ears. "Lelani? Is that Lelani's voice?"

"Yes, and you're this Pharcipeo fellow, aren't you? Let me guess, you've meet me before, haven't you?"

"Well, yes. You sound as if you don't remember," he whispered, a question rising in his voice as his brow drew together in confusion.

"She doesn't," Rexathor's voice was even lower than before, but drastically more powerful when compared to the previous one. "Uh, I'll explain later."

Pharcipeo blinked twice, an inexplicable pain growing in his chest. He pulled away from the wall for a moment, thinking. She had forgotten him? He didn't know why, but this fact seemed to shake him to his core. When they had first met, it was almost like a forgotten dream. She was so tiny, just like an àlainn, and yet, so human-like. Sure, he was no human himself, but there was something very special about her, other than her obvious height issue. How was it possible?

It almost sounded if Lelani was going to say something in retaliation as Rexathor continued quickly. "You really want to help? Well… Are you sure? How do you think you could?"

The istus made sure to press his ear against the wall again, his sandy-blond hair smooshing between the side of his head and the wall. He wanted to make sure he heard everything.

"Uh, see that small hole down there? I think I can fit."

More moving sounds. Perhaps Rexathor was bending down? "Are you sure?"

"Stop it and let just me help! I want to do something for once!"

Pharcipeo couldn't help from grinning. He could only imagine the look she was giving the prince. Quickly, he turned his attention at the tiny hole in the wall a few modus away from his position. Sure enough, she came wandering in moments later, slightly hunched over to fit through the opening.

She was just as tiny as before. Wavy brown hair, strange gray attire, proud stance—all as before. But one thing Pharcipeo wasn't expecting was the look of pure shock, and nearly something one might mistake for fear, as her tiny form turned toward him. Though she wasn't close enough for the boy to make out her facial expressions, her body language said it all.

"Is something the matter?" he couldn't help asking. She just looked so… so stunned.

"What did they do to you? Your eye…"

He winced mentally, thinking about the dark ring surrounding one of his light-blue eyes. "It will heal," he said, trying to smile a brave smile. He was normally skittish with things like pain, but he didn't want her worrying about him. She must have gone through some sort of trauma to have forgotten their time together in the castle. Having him act like a wimp was the last thing any of them needed.

She was a perfect statue for a few moments, intently staring at him. He shifted nervously, harshly straining against his ropes.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Er, no, uh…" The tiny girl brought a hand behind her head. "Sorry. You just reminded me of someone." She laughed nervously. "This is kinda weird. I've never met an elf before. And a giant one at that. I guess I really am the one who's small, huh?"

Pharcipeo blinked blankly. "What's an elf?"

"Ah… never mind."

"Hey," came the prince's sharp whisper. "We can talk about this later."

"He's right," the boy agreed. "Do you think you could get me out of these?" He gestured with his feet before turning as much as he could to show his bounded hands behind him.

Lelani began moving towards him. "Well, I'll see what I can do. I don't exactly have anything sharp." She paused to crane her neck upwards. "And I don't know how I'll get any of those down. Man, you weren't kidding about this being storage shed! There really are hundreds of swords up there! So far up…"

"No wait." He shifted into a more upright position, causing the girl to take a few steps backwards. "Sorry." He smiled apolitically as he nodded his head toward the edge of the room, his blond hair falling in his eyes again. "See that? Maybe you could find something to use."

In the far opposite corner of the room, past the little heaps of junk, rope, and variously placed barrels, lay a little heap of blades. Broken blades. Unfinished blades. Blades that were braking off into pieces along the edge. Being tied to the post as he was, Pharcipeo had no dream of reaching it—but Lelani defiantly could.

"Ah, good thinking," she said. The girl gawked at him for a few moments. That shocked appearance overtaking her again. "Just like him…" she murmured. She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head from side to side before setting off.

A few minutes of tense silence passed as Pharcipeo watched the girl make her long trek across the room. As he nervously listened for any sign that the guard had heard their conversation, he tried his best to keep his eyes on the moving girl. Finally, she arrived upon the pile. He could only imagine what the discarded pile of blades must appear to her. Regarding her choices, she moved towards the one with the shattered edge.

"Oh please be careful," Pharcipeo whispered louder than he would have dared.

She turned back to him and waved as if to say 'don't worry.' The tiny motion she made was just visible and blurring at the distance between them. The boy snorted lightly at himself, realizing for the millionth time how horrible his eyesight was. Quite pitiful for an istus—his hearing might have been good, but his eyesight was worse than the High Prince's. Then again, reading all those late nights by candlelight probably wasn't the best thing for his already dimming eyesight in his young age.

Lelani seemed to be struggling with a sliver coming off a blade's edge. Wiggling the metal back and forth, it finally came free with a sharp little snap, sending her falling backwards onto her backend. However, she seemed to be okay once she stood up, proudly holding the slice of metal above her head.

A smile entered his face as Pharcipeo nodded encouragingly. Maneuvering her way out of the pile, the girl began to navigate back across the room. A few tense minutes later, she at arrived near the base of his ankles.

"Are you two done yet?" asked a nervous Rexathor. The boy could hear his friend shifting nervously about on the outside. He thought nervously of all the blacksmith's apprentices in and around the buildings. Though it was probably around midday, most of them would be hard at work inside the smithy. The longer they took to free him, the longer they risked discovery.

"No, but she's found something to cut the rope with," the istus answered back. "Hopefully it won't be long now."

"Please hurry," Rexathor whispered fervently back. "And Lelani," she turned her head sharply towards the sound of his voice as he said this, "come back out once you're done so I'll know he's free. Tell me, is there a lock on the door?"

"Yes," the boy whispered before Lelani could even turn around and check. "When they brought me something to eat this morning, the man unlocked some sort of bolt. I guess they figured binding me to this pole wasn't enough."

Rexathor tensely exhaled. "This isn't good… Pharcipeo, listen closely. Once you are out of those binds, do something to catch the guard's attention. I'll try to get inside, and we'll jump the guard together. Got it? Then we will make a run for it."

He blinked a few times before looking off to the side. "Right." It didn't sound like his friend had put much thought into this plan. It worried him how well this could go. While sitting here by himself, he was alone in his thoughts for quite a while. He knew the blacksmith was not holding him for the mere sake of his stature, his political status, or his being an istus. No, it was his relations to the royal family. If the prince was caught and they were turned over to the chancellor, all would be lost. It wasn't him they wanted—it was Rexathor. He was merely the bait.

Now that Lelani was so much closer, Pharcipeo could actually get a decent look at her. Her little face turned up towards him, and with the help of the light streaming through a small window, he saw how her green eyes quivered in a strange way.

"Please don't move," she pleaded. "I know how you both think you've met me, but let's pretend for this moment that this is our first meeting. It's really nerve-wracking, you know? But I'm trusting you, so please keep still. I really don't want to find myself somehow under your, er, boots."

"Oh, don't worry," he said with what he hoped was a comforting smile. "I won't move. And I wouldn't step on you if I couldn't help it."

She tentatively approached the right side of his bounded ankles, and, producing her makeshift knife, began sawing away at the rope.

Pharcipeo made sure to do as he was told and hold absolutely motionless. Even though the extra pressure on his ankles pained him almost to the point of tears, he remained still. The only thing holding him together was the constant reminder that he'd be free of those wretched bonds in just a few short minutes. Unlike his hands, the leather of his boots created a natural barrier between his skin and the biting rope. For that much, he was grateful.

It almost made him nervous watching her saw at the rope. It seemed to be difficult work for such a small person, not to mention taking her quite some time to slice away at the rope. He imagined the blacksmith's son, who had been on guard for the last few hours, to come bursting through the door at any moment. He couldn't help his heart from slowly picking up its already alert pace.

For a fraction of a second, he thought he heard something near the door. Quickly shifting his whole attention towards the sound, his whole body shifted ever so slightly. When nothing more happened, he looked back down at his friend who was now standing a good half-modus away from his nearly free ankles.

'Sorry,' he mouthed soundlessly. Lelani had turned a shade of gray, but she nodded and slowly returned. She was nearly done, and with only a few more tedious passes of her bit of metal, his ankles were free! The girl quickly moved away from his now free lower limbs and made for his hands. As soon as she was out of the way, the boy stretched out his legs, sighing heavily in relief. Soon he would be completely free of the blasted rope.

"Don't move," the girl reminded him as she disappeared out of sight behind him.

The istus kept himself as still as a statue, that is mostly still until he felt her brush up against his right hand. A gasp escaped his lips when he felt her minute hand resting upon the edge of his. It was so strange—such a strange sensation that the pain from the ropes biting into his skin was nearly forgotten.

"Hold still!" came her voice from behind him as she began to saw away at these bonds. She seemed to be getting the hang of her improvised knife because she had him free in half the time it took to cut the rope around his ankles.

The instantaneous relief that rushed through him was so undeniably sweet that he was sure he'd never be more relieved in his life.

"Oh thank the heavens," he breathed as he swiftly brought both hands to the front and gently rubbing the raw and near bleeding, red rings around his wrists. Through he made sure to avoid Lelani in the processes, he still heard a tiny yelp. He knew he should have waited until the tiny girl had a chance to clear out from behind him, but he couldn't have stayed in that position a second longer.

Carefully moving away from the wall, he found her cringing defensively near the pole he was just freed from. Her arms were drawn to her chest, one hand gripping her sliver of metal she had just used to free him with.

"Sorry," he offered with a lopsided smile. "I was sitting there for too long."

She just stared up back at him with her green eyes catching the glinting sunlight, wide as they dare go. "Your hand… I thought I saw—"

"Hey! What's going on in there? Are you talking to yourself again, stupid kid," called a gruff voice from the front of the building. By the slow increase of volume and the crunch of footsteps on gravel, it sounded like the owner of the voice was just approaching the building after an apparent break. The blacksmith's son!

They had not a moment to spare!

Quickly yet cautiously, the young istus scooped Lelani up in his hands and gently carried her to the mouse hole. Though she seemed quite frightened by his sudden movements, floundering about to grab onto a spare thumb and cowering against it, he had no time to explain or even apologize. He had never held her before, and wished over and over in his head that she wouldn't be too angry with him. He remembered how tentative she had been in the past. And even now, she stated this was her first time in Ortanus. How frightened she must be. Pharcipeo wished things didn't have to be like this. This probably wasn't making a very good impression on her, and he wanted to give the very best impression an istus could make.

And yet, when he held her for that brief moment, he realized how fragile and alive she was. It was almost magical, and if not for the guard, he would have liked to hold her for hours. But he had no time to savor this moment. They had to move.

As Pharcipeo gently deposited her near the mouse hole, he shot her an apologetic smile, his light blue eyes silently asking for her forgiveness.

'Go,' he mouthed as he gently propelled her toward the light streaming through the opening. She gaped up at him for only a moment before coming to her senses. The girl hurried out the mouse's doorway, securing the splinter of metal to her waist with a thread she must have found.

Pharcipeo stood and turned to one of the walls covered in shelf upon shelf of weapons. He quickly grabbed a knife off one shelf and stuffed it into his belt loop.

He crossed the room in silent haste. As he recalled from his woozy first hours in this place, his bow and quiver had been stashed away in the large cabinets on the room's far wall. As he pulled at the handle, a tumble of swords precariously placed against the door clattered to the ground. The racket was enough to strike fear deep inside his already pounding heart.

Dash it all! He should have known! Well, at least he the created distraction Rexathor wanted.

Wincing at the clatter, he hurriedly looked inside. Sure enough, the quiver full of arrows lied undisturbed, just beside the bow. Out of sheer luck, he noticed his now empty knapsack lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the cabinet and snatched it up. He was barely slinging it over his shoulder reaching for the quiver when he heard the bolt coming off the door.

"Hey! What are you doing over there?" The blacksmith's son stood in the door. He appeared perhaps a few years older than Altunus. His tall stature and impressive muscles—muscles that could only be gained by swinging a heavy hammer for many years—froze the young istus in his tracks. He stared like wide-eyed deer for a moment, unsure of what to do.

Striding towards him, the man asked, "How did you get out of those ropes?"

"I, uh…" Pharcipeo quickly darted away from him.

The man grabbed for his shoulders with quick swoops. As difficult as it was, Pharcipeo somehow managed to slip out of his grasp once, twice, then a third time.

"Hold still!"

A rush of relief passed over him as he spotted Rexathor sneaking through the open door. In a bolt of courage, Pharcipeo told hold of the man's writs. A pain shot up his own writs as the skin cracked in ways it shouldn't.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, distracted for a moment as he began to pull away. If the boy had grabbed for him a moment sooner, the blacksmith's son would have had the time to overpowered him. But that was it took for the shadow of a gloved hand to appear above his head. The hilt of Rexathor's sword collided full-force with the man's skull. He slumped to his knees, then to the ground, face first.

Pharcipeo made room for the unconscious man as he fell. He lowered his hands from their defensive pose, looking up. Rexathor sheathed his rapier and clasped his arms heartily.

"Good to see you again, and in one piece. What happened to your eye? I told you no good would come of this."

"I thought you'd never come," Pharcipeo said with a relieved smile. Dropping his gaze, he spotted Lelani gripping the rim of his friend's pocket. "And I have Lelani here to thank for getting me out of this mess."

Her focused gaze quickly became averted as she gripped tighter to the young man's tunic. "We need to get out of here."

"She's right. Come!" Rexathor urged, moving for the doorway. "We have no time for pleasantries."

The boy nodded, fluidly slipped the quiver and bow over a shoulder, and dashed out behind him. They snuck back behind the buildings, as silent as possible.

They had nearly slipped behind the trees when Pharcipeo heard a distant shout behind them. The buildings between them and the voice acted as a natural muffler.

"Hey! Where's the kid?"

"Run," Rexathor grunted, distressed. The voice had apparently reached his ears as well.

Not sparing a moment to think, they both dashed off, using the trees as a natural screen. Pharcipeo had half a mind to glance over at Rexathor's pocket. Sure enough, the tiny girl was clinging desperately to the fabric. But soon enough, she slunk into the bottom of the pocket, creating a small bulge in the material.

In the back of his mind, the boy wished they he could have stopped and found a more comfortable position for Lelani. He disregarded this idea as soon as he heard the crashing of footsteps behind them. He dared not look behind to confirm his dread.

Almost as soon as the pursuer had begun after them, another far-away, echoy shout sounded through the thickening trees, and the pursuer's footsteps stopped. It was if someone had called them back.

Something seemed very wrong about this whole situation. But he just wasn't quite sure what. This consideration was pushed out of his mind almost as quickly as it had entered. All that was important was getting as far away as possible.

The two boys scrambled through the trees. Pharcipeo's already weakened state did not help as the minutes ticked on. He pushed himself to go farther and keep up with the prince. But his wheezing breath quickly caught Rexathor's attention.

"Okay, okay, I think we can walk from here," he panted, holding up his hand to stop him.

"Thanks," the boy uttered weakly as he sunk to his knees.

He offered his hand. "But we've got to keep moving." Hoisting him up, they continued on their way at a slower pace.

"Are you doing alright in there?" Rexathor asked the budge in his pocket. It wriggled for a moment before a little face peeped over the rim.

Pharcipeo internally gasped. Sure, his ankles were giving out from all this running, but what was it doing to her. He anxiously looked over and examined her expression, looking for any kind of distress.

"I'm not sure," she responded. Her eyes were wide with shock and she seemed to stare straight forward.

It was just like Rexathor to be barely realizing the impact of these things. "I apologize for that. You're not too shaken up, are you?"

Then she seemed to register where his voice was coming from. As if coming out of a daze, she turned herself around and looked up at him. "Just no more running… please."

The prince winced. "I'm truly sorry. We'll try our best, but no promises."

Pharcipeo took a wobbly step. His ankles screamed for reprise, threatening to give out at a moment's notice. He stumbled, but Rexathor caught him before he could fall.

"You alright?" Lelani and Rexathor asked in unison, the girl's voice just barely noticeable under the prince's.

"Yeah," he lied, locking eyes with one, then the other. A borderline grimace masked his pain. "Like you said—let's keep moving."

The young man didn't look convinced, but pressed on nevertheless, reminding him to take one step at a time. He gently urged him on, putting a hand on his back every now and then. A tense and serious air chocked any normal conversation out of them. Only the occasional, "you're doing great," and "just a bit further" from Rexathor chased away the silence.

An especially anxious air surrounded Lelani. She repeatedly looked over at him, questions dancing in her little face. But that biting tenseness kept her words at bay. And after a few more of his stumbles, the girl's glances morphed into ones of deep concern.

Time melted away as they trudged on; the sun had transformed the heavens into afternoon sky. Finally, when he was sure his ankles would collapse, Rexathor raised a hand.

"I think we're safe here." His blue eyes were weary.

Pharcipeo didn't need another invitation. He swung the bulky quiver off his back and slunk to the ground. Pressing his back against a trunk, he closed his eyes as he breathed heavily for moment. The bark rustled to his right as his friend slid down beside him.

"We're finally away from those men?"

Both boys turned their attention Rexathor's pocket. Lelani was leaning against the edge of the fabric as if it were a handrail.

"I hope so," the prince said in a huff. He looked down at her and smiled. "I wouldn't worry about it. Sorry about all the commotion earlier."

"Well it's alright since you were getting us out of there alive, I guess." She ran a hand through her hair. "But what was going on back there? Who were they? And why did they have you tied up?" she asked as she turned her attention to Pharcipeo. Her auburn hair tumbled over a shoulder.

"It's a bit of a long story," he said quietly, adverting his eyes. This was not his story to share. The king wasn't his father—he was Rexathor's. Pharcipeo was just an istus boy—not even human—but the king still took him in. And although became like a father, practically making him one of the family, he wasn't his flesh and blood. Rexathor and Altunus on the other hand were. Rexathor would have to be the one to tell her.

"I need to know what earth is going on here!"

Pharcipeo was baffled by the strange expression. He looked toward the prince for clarification, but Rexathor, lightly rolling his dark-blue eyes, only offered an 'I'll explain later' sort of look.

"Really, you both owe me an explanation."

That pained look entered into the prince's eyes, the look they both had been unintentionally practicing day and night. But Pharcipeo knew his friend's thoughts—he didn't want to talk about the sorrow, the unanswered questions, His Majesty. All he could offer was a firm nod of the head that conveyed his support in one easy motion.

"Yes, I think it's time," he said solemnly. "If you're going to be coming with us, it's only fair that I explain everything."

"I'd like that," Lelani said motioning for him to bring down his hand. "But first, there's something I can't seem to get out of my mind." She waited until Rexathor held his gloved hand near the edge of his pocket. And after a moment or two, Lelani tentatively used his fingertips to pull herself up and out of his breast pocket. Standing up, she took hold of his thumb for support.

Catching Pharcipeo by the eye, she said, "I don't know why my mind insists on telling me things that are impossible. You are just so much like him… I know it can't be possible. But… I need to know. Please, I need to see your hand."

"My hand?" he asked, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion.

"Please. I need to get this crazy idea out of my head."

He offered his right for her scrutinization, as it seemed the proper thing to do. Humans usually did that sort of thing when meeting each other. Yes, he actually favored his left in everything he did. But humans were nearly always right handed, and they expected you to be too.

"No, the left. You are left handed, aren't you?" she asked quietly as if she was afraid he might disappear before her very eyes.

He gasped, raising his left instead. "But how did you…? Ah, you must have remembered that from before!"

Pharcipeo looked over and gave Rexathor a relieved nod. A look of utter relief washed over his friend's face as they both turned their attention back her way. She didn't share in their premature celebration.

"No," she said. Once again, she was speaking so lowly, it was nigh impossible to understand. She sounded so unsure of herself, as if she was fearful of chasing away some idea by merely speaking of it.

"Your palm. Did those men give you that scar?"

"Oh this?" He raised his hand higher to inspect it himself. Both wrists were red and nearly bleeding from his unfortunate adventure, but he knew Lelani meant otherwise. He inspected the thin, pale line that curved around the fleshy part of his thumb, zigzagging a bit around the heal of his palm before traveling just barely up his wrist, stopping shy of his wrist's broken skin. "No, no. I've had this for a while. Why?"

"How did you get it?" she asked, completely ignoring his question. Her voice shook, and she held on tighter to Rexathor's gloved thumb.

"I don't remember." He laughed nervously and ruffled his sandy hair with his free hand. "I don't remember much from when I was a child. I suppose that's when it must have happened."

She just stood still, staring at the scar. Then, one hand released her grip on her handrail, reaching out towards him. Rexathor, catching the boy's eyes, raised his platform-of-a-hand to meet Pharcipeo's. They pressed their hands together, creating one large, seamless area. The boy tried his best to keep his hand from shaking as Lelani stepped over the gloved surface of Rexathor's palm into his.

That magical feeling returned. He felt her tiny cloth shoes, the weight of her body, each step she took, not to mention the importance of holding his hand as still as possible. Dashing his best efforts, he couldn't keep his hand from nervously moving about. The prince seemed to be better at that sort of thing than he was. When you wanted to hold your hand still would always be the time when it would refuse to do so. But when he supported her with one hand cupped under the other, he found the movement stopped almost entirely.

The little teen stood in his hands, staring intently down at the scar before her black shoes. She wobbled for a second, and then slumped to her knees before either boy could offer her assistance. Reaching out, her little hand made contact with his skin, sending a strong, tingling sensation up his arm as she touched the run of his scar.

"Uh, are you alright," Rexathor asked tentatively.

"It can't be…" they scarcely heard her breath. "It's impossible."

Pharcipeo gently shook his head. "What's impossible?"

She turned her face up to meet his. Tears were springing from her eyes. "Fylo?"