Stars of Pale Fire

VIII. Elyon, Please Stop Talking.

  Reaper doesn't like the cell anymore than Silver does. He's not even inside it, yet he's still mad about it. Such is the mind of a dog. The soldiers have tried shouting at him, wheedling him, bribing him with deer jerky, and one even tried a solid kick to the ribs, but Reaper hasn't budged. All there is to show for their efforts is a bruised face of the soldier who kicked Reaper, which isn't even Reaper's work—one of the other soldiers socked him in the face for kicking a dog.

  Silver has his face resting on the undoubtedly unsanitary metal bars when a bobbing light comes down the stone hallway. Silver looks expectantly, hoping it's Gwynestri, here to tell Silver she bashed the king's head in as promised. Unfortunately, it's not. It's just Elyon. Even more unfortunately, he looks annoyed, which is an ugly look for his face.

  "Captain," Elyon says harshly as he descends the last step, fixing his eyes upon the soldier with the red horsehair plume in his helmet, "take your men and have an early break."

  "With all due respect, Hallowed One," says the captain, crossing his arms, which Silver translates to mean, I hate you but that's impolite to say, and the captain continues in a smug tone, saying, "that's not your decision to make."

  Elyon's face hardens, and his torch flickers bizarrely, the flame flaring up to nearly the ceiling. Elyon, lit by the sparks his erratic torch had thrown and by the fire burning in his eyes, says, "It wasn't a question, captain, it was an order. I don't like repeating myself."

  The captain, after a brief staring contest, snaps his fingers, and he and his men clang down the hall and up the stairs. Reaper lifts his head to watch them go, and wags his tail at Elyon.

  "You're a problem," Elyon tells him with an accusing finger pointed at the inoffensive hound. "How did you even get down here?"

  "Reaper does what he wants," Silver says wearily. Elyon looks at him for the first time, his eyes burning. Silver gazes back, his expression blank. "Just get it over with," he says, closing his eyes.

  "Get what over with?" Elyon demands, voice rocketing up a decibel.

  "You're going to shout at me," Silver says. "Shout, scream, yell, probably throw something and blacken my eye." Silver opens his eyes to gaze at Elyon. "Just do it, so I can explain myself."

  "Try explaining yourself first," Elyon says through gritted teeth. "What in the name of Toriah's tunic were you doing kidnapping the princess?"

  "Elyon," Silver says, smacking his hand to the bars. "Why would I kidnap the princess? How would I kidnap the princess? How would I kidnap anyone?" He presses his forehead into the bars. "I went to lay down," he says, "and I got drugged along the way. I got kidnapped right alongside her, alright?"

  "That's not what the soldiers say."

  "Did you ask Aldus?" Reaper barks. Silver looks at him. "You can't talk, stop that," he snaps. "You're an unreliable alibi."

  "The king wants your head," Elyon tells him. "Or at least the head of the kidnapper." He sighs, and his torch dims slowly. "Do you remember what he looked like?"

  "Boring," Silver says. Elyon rolls his eyes. "Brown cloak, silver knife, really bright blue eyes. Weirdly blue eyes. Like... like they're someone else's eyes that he planted in his face. His hair was..." Silver looks at the ceiling, sucking air through his teeth. "Either dark blond or brown, I'm not sure. Pale-ish skin. A couple of scars and what not." Silver blows hair from his eyes. "I don't know. I was drugged."

  "Are drugged," Elyon corrects. "I can see it in your bloodstream." Before Silver can ask what that means and why Elyon would say that to anyone, ever, in any context, Elyon says, "Anything else? An insignia, a medallion, a brand?"