A mine.
Zillah had her foot placed over a mine.
These were no ordinary mines; placed in secret around the castle in case of intrusion from a war years past. Liam remembered reading about it, remembered how deadly they were and how many casualties it caused..
Dread began to creep, that in-escapable, all too familiar feeling ascending through him.
Liam was certain all were removed, that all were free to roam aimlessly again with no danger... His mother would have made sure of such a thing...
Yet here, in front of him, lay a war mine; disguised as the material of the floor and posing imminent threats.
If Zillah removed her foot...
No. This was not happening. This was a lie. Another obstacle thrown; how many would they need to thaw?
Courage was snatched away, the hands of horror groping his mind, his heart; what was one boy meant to do?
Fear Snaked it's way through him, possessing him limb from limb; to just scuttle away like a common street rat.
He knew better, he needed to think. Think clearly.
Come up with something.
Liam creased his brow, deep in thought; blocking out the surrounding clutter of noise, to which only heavy breathing could be heard, and the outside birds chirping peacefully.
Think. Think. Think.
His eyes scanned the libraries of his memory, in search for that book that documented every detail of the war's secrets.
Rustling of feet was heard to Zillah, etching from the double oak doors. A sound that only sensitive assassin ears could hear.
Her head whipped to where the rustling was resonating; her eyes, blew up like the sun, dilating in fear; as through the peep of a forgotten injury in the door, she could see a horde of soldiers gathering around the exit.
They just bobbed to the movement of the wind, along the grass; all bearing weapons.
She visibly gulped, swearing and cursing under her breath at her stupidly and failure. The King must know of her escape... barricading all exits as the last line of defence. Mort wouldn't give another inch of ground and she knew it... How cold she lead the Prince to a trap? How could she let down Aloysia? How did they know they would exit through here?
A knot was forming in her stomach, twisting at the gut feeling of death; eyes slowly begging to spill as she closed them.
No matter how hard she tried to pull the drops of regret back, they just remained there. She felt like a failure. She was not her sister, no where near as strong- both physically and mentally.
Zillah could not handle the silence, her life was hanging by a thin thread, and all she could do was wait and pray that someone pulled her back.
But that small thread, that slither of hope, was the knowledge that the soldiers had no idea that their targets had caught on to their whereabouts.
They were setting an ambush, which meant that pair would have to make the first move and enter the trap.
As long as they did not figure out where they were, they should be safe from them.
For now.
But Zillah knew most resources would be in search for Aloysia. The real kings prize. She was a living, breathing trophy; one that any power-frenzy mad man would love to own; to control.
Shaking her mind clear of thoughts, Zillah wiped the few escapees of her well of tears, and repositioned herself; foot still placed over the mine; providing the same pressure, and not moving it by an inch.
Liam was completely focused, hands stroking his forehead relentlessly as he paced; a cautious 10 metres away.
His thought process worked overtime.
"If the mines were triggered by weight, which is held currently by pressure, then something equivalent to her weight would suffice to hold it" He muttered to himself.
"I would have to slide something onto the mine as she removes her foot..." Liam snarled to himself. Annoyance at their situation bubbling.
"Yet there is a millisecond window where no pressure is applied..."
Liam grunted, rubbing a hand through his hair frustratedly; eyes darting repeatedly between the mine and Zillah.
With every plan, there was always a risk.
So he had no choice.
He would try it.
"Don't move and stay right there! I'm going to get something" he slowly turned, "if anything happens, scream! I'll come running"
Zillah remained fearful, but felt a twinge of frustration at his 'joke'; whether he meant it or not, it still annoyed her.
"'Don't move', 'stay right there' Very funny Liam, world class comedian-" She was cut off; A stare so intimidatingly stern shot from Liam that seemed to halt any more words leaving her mouth. His body was tensing beneath his cloths as his face read, 'I'm serious, do you want to die?'
"I'm not joking around Zillah! Don't anger me again, not when I have to formulate a plan to save your ass after you go storming onto a freakin' mine! A MINE" He barked.
"You should have checked your surroundings!" Liam was growling now. He was frustrated at her careless attitude when they were in the grips of the kings deceitful hands. Not on his freakin' watch!
They stared at each other, eyes locked on to each other as anger was burning behind those eyes.
"We're in this huge mess whether you like it or not, and If I have too, I will leave you to fend for yourself. Do.Not.Test.Me"
Zillah blinked. The serious tone to his voice, it was not a request, but an order. From a king.
To which Zillah begrudgingly accepted, and remained still and quiet; eyes falling to the floor like a scolded puppy, as Liam took off back into the never ending maze of a castle, of which they can never seem to escape from.
~
Her hunch, thanks to an irritable itch on her left arm, guided her through the corridors; diverting crowded pathways and easy access ambush points.
Each direction she took was instructed by what arm became irritated.
Left arm; go left.
Right arm; turn right.
Neck; straight ahead.
It took Aloysia a while to figure out what was happening, but when she did, her mind unravelled to the thought of a new 'feature' of the stone.
No matter how much she loathed it, she could not help but feel in awe of its capabilities, but being in this castle was setting an unnerving feeling in her gut, twirling around. Nothing good came from her stay here. Nothing.
It seemed her irritation was leading her to the main kitchen near the back way of the castle.
At this point all her running and tracking caused her to lose track of time, which Aloysia didn't even seem to give a damm about as she let her legs carry her further; to resolve what ever was calling her in...
~
Liam knew an average a person weighed around 62kg, but her frame was quite petit; it requiring such a thing to be an assassin.
His mindful eyes examined Zillah's shocked body in his head, scaling everything to size. More muscle than fat; which would bring her weight up slightly, but still remain under.
After long deliberation, he concluded she was lighter than normal.
Quite anti-climactic, which made him realise he had been over complicating everything...
Liam scowled to himself, scrunching his nose as his hand roughly massaged his tired eyes; imprinting marks as he produced more pain than pleasure from it, but at least he was alive, and could feel every pinch.
His heart could not beat for much longer under so much stress and tension; soon to rocket from his chest and cause his blood pressure to run sky high.
Where was Aloysia?
Why did she manipulate him?
Will Zillah be ok?
Even under mountains of anxiety, she still managed to squeeze her way through the crevices of his mind, only to sit in front of his retina and imprint her rare; yet beautiful smiles to him.
Her stunning face, her scarred heart, her broken mind; he saw her for what she truly was, he knew she cared more than she let on; knew that her savage sass was a facade to her struggling soul, pressured into submission by that wretched stone.
Others- saw an assassin.
Liam however? - saw a helpless human struggling to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders; yet kept a professional mask plastered on her face so no one would feel any pressure on their own shoulders. One less thing to care about, is how she saw herself.
The pain she fights so hard for others not to feel was a thought that brought Liam breathless.
Every dam time.
Yet Liam thought otherwise, to care for someone made you stronger, not weaker. Countless books taught him that, along with never ending fairy tales told to him as a child.
His mother's words would always flood his imagination and fill it to the brim with wisdom, morals; being the only reason books were held close to his heart, because of his mothers beautiful influence.
Liam would remember her, but in a new light; mourning was complete, and no more wasted tears would be shed for her loss, but in commemoration of her life.
It was no longer a time of sadness, but one of celebration.
"Liam?" A wavering voice whispered, snapping him from his dreary haze.
Even when he was not fully engaged in reality, his mind could process and recognise that broken voice anywhere.
"Aloysia?" He let out, shock evident with a touch of grievance.
Wisps of platinum hair struck his eyes first, before the blood dripping knives tucked loosely around her hip screamed eerily for attention; dragging his eyes from the assassin to death's scythe.
That iron had been coated with more victims than history had led them to believe; but he remained still, un-fazed at Aloysia as she manoeuvred over to him.
His heartbeat became irregular, erratic even.
Caused by stress, anxiety or anger, Liam never new; so he gave nothing away...
To his credit, he didn't flinch or shrink at the sight of her ghastly appearance. Rather, he raised his brows at her, then turned away.
Why was he so distant?
This was not a welcome she had come to expect...
Rummaging through kitchen pans stocked away carelessly in cupboards, Liam ignored Aloysia; not even sparing a glance as the clattering of metal echoed the kitchen.
It was quite a large kitchen, formed of stone and brick cementing the walls. A humming fireplace plummeting out of the main frame, where grand meals were stoked to perfection under a blazing fire.
Table tops littered the room, placed specifically to provide more work space for the countless servants.
Stocking stacks were crammed in off-side rooms, separated by a heavy curtain allowing only the peep of an eye through.
Yet will all the cluster, Aloysia's gaze remained fixated on the Princes' back.
And boy could he feel it.
The tension was simmering; smothering him in a cloud of heat as he could feel those ruby eyes burning through his attire.
No words were exchanged, yet none were needed to know what Aloysia wanted to say as her face fell to the floor in hurt.