Chapter Three - How to Rescue a Princess

Raven. 

When the girl's eyes shut the madame pulled Raven close, and with a hiss said, "If she dies, so do you." Before leaving the room with a swiftness she'd never seen before.

Raven's stomach ached with hunger and she realized it had been nearly two days since she'd eaten. Fumbling through the jars and baskets on the shelves, she managed to find some sweet toast and honey. She would have to make a quick trip to the kitchens to get actual food but this would work for now.

Eli.

Eli ran what he knew over in his mind again. The Aviary sits alone on an island. The south-facing side is covered in steep slate cliffs. The edges are unsteady, and shards of rocks were fatal to those attempting to scale its side. To the North there is the only entrance to the island, a beach with a dock. The beach holds deadly secrets, there was only one safe path littered in luminescent pebbles in the sand. Those who wandered across the sand outside of the line of pebbles were trapped facing forward towards their pasts until they starved.

It seemed the only weakness was the beach on the north-east side of the island used by naked patrons, but that was disconnected from the other entrances to the building and constantly monitored. 

If a little bird fled the grasp of the cage or a snake made it through her gates the Madame would have lost profits. Lost profits could not stand. This monstrous death trap was effective to keep its inhabitants on the island and unwelcome guests from its doors. By its design, the island was one of the most easily defensible buildings in all of Salva.

But the island frequently welcomed monsters, as Eli had been told. The Usurper and his knights were regulars. The rumor was that he would travel to the island to torture one woman, identifiable by her curly blonde locks and bright green eyes. Bright green eyes that mirrored his own.

He still pictured her as he'd last seen her on her 18th birthday celebration. A silver gown. Emerald green accented jewelry and green emeralds bound all over her hair. She'd been a prize many had found to be so enticing that a whole country had erupted in civil war.

Eli swirled his mug, looking at the amber liquid inside distastefully. He brushed aside his own dark lock behind the ear and scratched at the scruff building along his jaw. The barmaid tapped an empty mug against his table. "More ale for ya?" She asked him making the rounds of all her tables. "Not yet" Eli replied. She turned her back to him and walked away.

She might be his sister. If the usurper brought her there, if he kept returning, it was likely that she was his sister.

A hooded man dragged a wooden chair across the stone floor loudly towards Eli's table drawing annoyed stares from other patrons in the bar. "I have it, do you have the coin?" He announced to Eli as he sat, back to the bar and face towards the door. Eli pulled a bag out of his right inner pocket full of coins and dropped it quietly on the table. The hooded man picked up the bag, weighed it, stuck his hand inside to feel for rocks and took out a coin he then bit down on between his teeth. Satisfied, he dropped the parchment on the table and moved to sit up.

Eli grabbed his hand, "I need to consult with a sorcerer. Any suggestions?" He asked. The man shook him off, visibly annoyed at the idea of spending one more second in the bar, "I'd start with the apothecary on Farth street."

Eli unfurled the parchment, the architect sketches of the buildings on the island were all there as promised. Eli strummed his fingers along the wooden table before furling the parchments back up and slipping them into his pocket to study later in a more private setting. With a flick of his wrist, he threw back the rest of his warm ale and then sat up from the table.

A few heavy steps later he was out in the alley. Eli's eyes took a minute to adjust to the bright sun. He figured it was late lunch time from where it sat in the sky but he couldn't be sure. He desperately missed his old timepiece, a marvel of gears and mechanics designed by a faraway kingdom and sent as a gift for his 15th birthday.

He trudged through the heat and the painfully strong stench of pig feces holding part of his tunic over his nose. The apothecary his contact had mentioned was only a short walk away from the pub he'd been in but the area was far less safe. His eyes scanned the shadows. By the time he'd arrived at the apothecary he was certain he was being followed, but none moved against him. He caught no glimpse of his pursuer. Dread sat deep in his stomach.