Welcome to the Palace - Healing, Learning, and...Danger???

Kal kicked the gate. "Hey!" He yelled again at the top of his lungs. "Someone help!" He kept up his yelling, till suddenly it caught in his throat. A wide, door had opened up ahead, spilling the light from the windows into a bright puddle on the cool green grass and vibrant plants. A dark figure, flanked by two bearing spears, made its way down the thin path that led to the gate. A hissing flare flew up as two torches were lit, illuminating the figures and casting light against the gate.

Kal's tan, heaving chest glistened in the firelight, hot against the muggy evening that was only slowly fading into cool. Little breezes ruffled his mussed blond hair that had bits of twig and leaf sticking out of it. A small trickle of blood ran down his right leg where his shark knife had cut him while running. His eyes leaked with relief and the sting of fresh smoke as the figures came to stand on the other side of the gate. Kal's head tilted upward.

Three halflings stood on the other side. The two guards on either side of the center figure were holding the torches in one hand and a long, pointed and decorated spear in the other. One was a handsome chesnut with long curly ginger locks and a strong chin, the other was burly and dark, from his pelt to his skin, his muscles huge and shining and his head smooth, reflecting the torchlight. They kept their eyes focuse ahead, waiting entirely on the word of the creature in-between them.

It was a faun with dark eyes, who met Kal in height, and looked at him stonily. His haunches were covered in dense dark curls, and his abs were hardened. His face was hard and shrewd, with a long nose and heavy, angled brows. His hair fell to his shoulders, so dark it looked wet in the torchlight, and it fell in loose ringlets. Around his chest was a belt of keys, and a bow was slung over his shoulder. He loosed one and quietly notched one, pointed with deadly precision at Kal's throat. Kal stumbled back from his close proximity to the gate, his eyes wide, almost letting go of the limp form held in his arms.

"Don't make another move or I will loose this arrow and you will be dead," The faun said. His voice was not as deep as Kal had expected, but it maintained a harsh amount of steel and experience that were twice as forboding. Kal froze, his muscles tensing, but he forced himself not to run, though his instincts screamed it. He opened his mouth, the faun tightened his pull.

"Do not speak until spoken to." Kal closed his mouth. The faun nodded curtly. "Who are you?" He spoke in the same breath. Kal took a deep breath.

"My name is Kal Merash, I'm from the mercolonies to the south," Kal said, pleased that his voice did not shake, but sounded rather bold and smooth. The faun obviously did not share his pleasure, and instead closed one eye, focusing ever more on Kal's neck.

"You are not a merman." He said.

"No, I'm not," Kal said quickly, his voice loosing its smoothness from before at this blunt hostility. "I am a human. I was adopted by Celan Merash of the Mermaid Lagoon,"

The faun frowned. "What do you mean by running up and down our garden walls and yelling? This is private property for the council of Neverland, specifically the Halfling's Palace."

Kal glanced down at the limp elf in his arms, pale and still. Her lip twitched, as though dreaming, no, having a nightmare.

"I was traveling, and met this elf, Greylyn, in the forest. We were hardly aquainted when she fell terribly ill, and so we headed for...here. Um, then she passed out.." Kal felt his heart race, he didn't even know the name of the palace! And he had to admit his story sounded crazy. His image, a half naked boy carrying a seemingly dead elf in his arms did not help him. Then he steeled himself, Greylyn needed help, she needed it now. It was up to him. "She's very ill, sir, she needs medical attention immediatly."

The faun focused on the elf for an instant, his face wrinkling with displeasure. "It is against our policy to treat commoners at the palace, take her to a common doctor. Besides, she is an elf, let her own people care for her, why come here?" He tightened his grip on the bow again. "Tell the truth,"

Kal fought back angry wetness from his eyes. "I am sir, she refused to be taken to her people, I believe she is estranged from them sir. This was the only place I knew to bring her."

"Only royalty may reccomend care for commoners here, Mr. Merash. You must leave the grounds immediatly."

Kal grabbed on that like a drowning man to a life ring. "Yes! Sir! It was Princess Antonella, I met her in the forest! She told us to come here! She was coming with us!" Kal glanced back over his shoulder. "She wants Greylyn cared for!"

Their was a deathly silence, and all at once Kal knew he had said exactly the wrong thing. The faun took a step towards the gate, his gaze not fiery and enraged.

"Princess Antonella? You met Princess Antonella in the forest just a while ago?"

Kal did not move, he did not breathe.

"Princess Antonella has been missing for over twelve hours. We have been searching for her kidnapper! What have you done with her?" The faun said.

"No...no, I didn't kidnap her! I didn't hurt her! I swear! She was...she was right behind me," Kal made to look, panicking.

"Don't move!" The faun bellowed, his bow more taunt then ever, eyes flashing. Kal couldn't help it, he bolted.

Before he had taken two bounds, the faun redirected his arrow and shot it into Kal's leg. Kal fell face down on the grass, arching his back so as not to crush Greylyn who sprawled on the green beneath him. Agony seared through his leg, but before he could even think, a fog fell over his mind as the blue coating of the arrow worked it's way through his bloodstream and forced unconciousness over him.

The faun opened the gates quickly, looking around for any sign of Kal Merash's accomplices, seeing none, the faun knelt beside Kal, and flipped him over, staring fixedly at his now quiet face.

"Take this one to the dungeon," He told the dark centaur. "Chain his hands and leave him, he shouldn't wake till tomorrow."

His eyes turned to the elven girl. "Take her to the enfermery and summon our best doctor immediatly. She may have information. In any case, we can't afford to lose an elven life that has been thrust upon our doorstep, it would look aweful to the elven council," He said bitterly. Then he stood and walked back to the palace swiftly without another word. The centuars went about their obligations quietly. Kal chained to the deepest dungeon, and Greylyn laid in a soft white bed where a doctor immediatly began work.

It was a long, cool night....

The castle enfermery was a beautiful, clean place. It was a long and narrow room, with beds on either side of a red stone walkway and a high arching ceiling revieling warped stars in colored glass windows. Oil lamps that had been down to a soft wick earlier were now burning brightly, and magic orbs of soft white light sat into the walls above the new patients bed.

A faun stood next to the soft white bed with brass bedposts. He, in all ways, resembled an old billy goat, the hair on his lower hanches white, and his skin pale. Atop his head was a messy white flurry of hair, and his face was wizened, wrinkled at the eyes and mouth, but kind and gentle. A pair of round spectacles perched on the end of his nose, and a neat white goatee grew over his chin.

Dr. Strow, as the fauns name was, had studied to be a doctor since he was very small, and was now considered the best in the land. While he used to be a town doctor, he was moved up to the castle with deals of a greater education in the royal library for his two granddaughters who had been sent to live with him for tutorage.

He was scribbling intently on a notepad and weighing white pills on a brass scale upon the bedside table when the thin, sickly elf girl awoke in the bed beside him.

"Who's there? Where am I?" She croaked weakly, raising her arm from its padidng of towls and blanching as she noticed the clean, open cut that dripped blood. "Where is Mister Kal?"

"Oho! You're awake!" Dr. Strow scooted his chair up to her bed, putting himself in her line of vision. He set his notepad on his lap and gently moved her arm back to the soft towls to absorb the blood. "You gave me quite a scare my dear, believe me. But don't worry, I expect you to make full recovery, though if you had been brought here even a half hour later... You are very lucky to be alive, miss."

He gazed sympathetically into her confused eyes. "Forgive me, I am Dr. Strow, you are being treated at the palace enfermery. I'm not quite sure what it is you have, but it seemed to have attacked your vital organs, your brain, heart and such. It acted as a depressent upon your vital funcions and caused an unusual amount of fluid and pus to build up in your system. On the opposite side, it has acted as a stimulent upon your shadow, which has experienced rapid color changes and extreme hyperactivity, though what this means I cannot say..." The doctor trailed off again, suddenly jotting down a note with a glint in his eye.

"I have bled you and given you copious amounts of water to flush your system. The medication you are on is a mixture unique to this case, rather quick thinking on my part to be horribly unmodest. You'll have to take one of these every hour, but don't worry, They can be dissolved in your mouth while you are asleep." He motioned to the platter of white pills.

"However, your living is due entirely to you, not to me. It is your own strength of immunity and spirit that broke your fever in the last hour," Dr. Strow nodded in satisfaction. Then hurridly handed her a glass of water.

"Please, drink this. If you're strong enough, would you care to relay what happened to you in the last twenty four hours leading up to your illness? It was a fast acting and passing illness that almost surely would have killed you, which makes me think you ate, drank, or inhaled the infection. " He prepared his quill and watched her carefully.

The doctor watched the young elf encouragingly as she forced down some of the water. Remarkable recouvery. He smiled and jotted something down.

"I have eaten nothing..." She spoke hoarsely, Dr. Strow listening intently. "And aside from water just now, I've had only..." Strow's ears, furry and more than a little goat like, perked up as he focused on her.

"...I don't know," Dr. Strow was a little disappointed, but not surprised. He gave her another warm smile. "Don't worry dear, conserve your strength," He said as her face wrinkled with puzzlement. Suddenly she frowned.

"Where is Mister Kal?" She said, her voice a little more forceful, more urgent. "And...the princess? She's back I suppose," she trailed off into silence, her face filled with a sad and completely utter bewilderment. Strow shook his head, more to himself than to her, of course she would be awfully confused. But what exactly should he say to her? He had been told by Marjx, the military head, not to speak with her (if she lived) until he had arrived. But she had awoke so early and he had to tell her something, and Dr. Strow believed strongly in honesty.

"But what have you done with him, with Mister Kal?" The elf tried to sit up, then fell back down, her face angry. Strow could tell that her mind was clearing through the fog of sickness. He removed two pillows from the next, empty bed and placed them behind the elf's back, helping prop her up so she would be more comfortable speaking to him. "Answer me, Old Faun."

Strow's eyes crinkled as he smiled ruefully. "Goodness, you sound like my granddaughter, the youngest anyway. Does she ever have a tongue in her head, especially to her poor old grandfather." Then his smile slowly turned to a solemn face as he prepared to answer her questions.

"I don't want you to worry, dear." He said slowly, "I know as little about the situation as one can. I'm afraid to say that Princess Antonella has been missing since this morning, or, last morning I suppose, seeing as midnight has flown by..." He glanced at the old wood clock that hung from the wall at the head of the room. Strow turned back to her and cleared his throat.

"Our head of military and guard, Sir Marjx, strongly suspects kidnapping, an unfortunate possibility in this day and age," Strow shook his head of white hair sadly.

"I know very little of the current investigations except for a human named Kal Merash is being held in the dungeons right now under suspiscion of having something to do with the dear ladies disappearance. This is the Kal you speak of is it not?" He bit his lip. "I do not know how the boy is doing, although I am charged with visiting him and aiding his wounds after I am sure that you are in good health."

"Kidnapping, yes of course you'd think that," the elven girl hissed bitterly. The doctor said nothing, regretfully turning back to his scales. He pulled a pouch of a dark brown, grainy substance. After slicing a white pill open with a sharp silver blade, he put a small quantity of the powder into the white liquid middle. The elf girl seemed to fall asleep, and Dr. Strow focused on new equations, pulling a thick medical book from beneath her bed and browsing through complex diagrams and seas of text. His brow wrinkled as he concentrated, sometimes walking to and from his stores; an office/apothacary in the upper right corner of the room, with some new pill, liquid or plant.

As he sat down with a brass plate of ingredients and his heavily enscribed notebook, Greylyn spoke into the warm quiet with an icy voice.

"“I am not your granddaughter, Mr. Stow, and I care for your life much, much less than she undoubtedly does.” Greylyn paused and breathed, Mr. Strow, began crushing basil leaves as she spoke. “Now, listen to me carefully. You will let Mister Kal out of that Hole and you will do so in no less than half no time.”

Mr.Strow sighed, his face sad and worn at the girls angry and wild threats, almost as if dissapointed. However he said nothing she continued; her voice aching with ferocity and soreness. “If you must, give him at least a fair questioning, but he has done nothing to deserve the dungeon.”

Mr.Strow finished crushing the basil leaves, and mixed them along with the dissolving pill in a porcelin teacup of hot water. He picked it up carefully when he was sure it was not too hot, handed it carefully to Greylyn, wrapping his hands around hers to make sure she held it securely before returning to his chair beside her bed.

"Miss," he said gently, looking her in the eyes, his own ones a soft gray. "I believe you, and I agree that throwing unconvicted people in unsanitary, painful quarters is both inhumane and not a solution to the problem at hand."

"Unfortunatly I am not Sir Marjx, and he is, forgive my impertinance, a young, hotheaded fool." Mr.Strow smiled wearily, "As well as being in charge of prisoners and all things military related. Even if I was as foolish and brave to embark on this crusade of justice with you, my dear, I have neither keys nor acess to the dungeon unless under strict supervision,"

"Indeed, Kal Merash is unable to go anywhere at this time. I have recieved news he was shot with one of the militaries poison-euthinization coated arrows, our own unfortunate Sir Marjx's invention. He will not be waking up for a few more hours yet. It will be long past dawn before he's fit to even stand." He patted her hand consolingly.

"But do not worry, now that I see you will make it, I will be escorted to the dungeon and will be able to treat your friend. His arrow wound will be cleaned and bandage to the best of my, forgive me, prestigious ability. He will be fine, my dear, and once he is well enough to be questioned and Antonella shows up, as I'm sure that silly freewilled girl will," He shook his head with a smile. "He will be released."

"Now drink this..." He prompted her. "You will fall asleep, and by the morning not only will you be feeling much better, but most likely be able to visit Mr. Kal very soon." And he softly blew out the lamp nearest to her pillow.

Kal was awake long before he opened his eyes. It was as though his consious was moving slowly toward knowingness through a thick syrup. In the back of his slowed mind, he had the sensation that he was underwater. He tried to lift his arm to swim, but it was too heavy. He was sinking, and even though he was awake, he couldn't force his limbs to move. He was just...tired. Too tired. Kal's face scrunched as he stopped taking in air through his nose. It would be water, he would drown.

He, a merman, drown.

But he couldn't fight it, and so he slipped into unconciousness once more, his lungs expanding as vital functions took over his slowed concious ones.

An hour later, as Kal floated to the surface of his mind, he realized he was awake. With much effort, he opened his eyes. A haze floated in front of him, his vision blurry, and he suddenly felt a wave of nausia wash over him.

His stomach heaved what little was in his stomach to the stone floor, Kal shutting his eyes tight. When he opened them, he found his vision was a little clearer, and leaned back to wait it out. He was still lethargic, and had no understanding of where he was. After a while, he blinked, and found he could move his legs.

His body was lying on the floor, held up awkwardly by cuffs around his hands that were bolted to the wall about a foot and a half off the floor. Kal gingerly fought to sit up for a few minutes, his apendages numb, before finally coming to a sitting position with his hands chained directly behind his back. Kal leaned his head back against the stone wall, closing his eyes tiredly with a sighing breath.

His wrists started to smart, having been rubbed raw by the metal cuffs, blood drying on his wrists. Glancing down, he realized his right leg was bandaged around his calf. Smooth white gauzy bandages were wrapped around it, though he could see a brown spot on one side where blood had dried and clotted. The spot hurt, but also ached, the wound had been stitched.

Slowly, Kal's mind began to come back to him. As he realized exactly who he was and what had happened, he swore loudly. Or at least meant to, it came out as a palsly weak whisper. Focusing more on his uneven breathing, Kal took in his surroundings. He was in a small, circular room, probably six feet in diameter. The stones were cold and dirty, and there was a harshly bolted down grate in the center of the floor. A door lay across from him, made of wood and bolted, with a small barred window that he could barely see a fixed torchlight through. His knife and bag where gone too. Anger welled up inside him. How could they take his bag? His...books?

He realized he had knocked over a wooden bowl of water, and then realized how thirsty he was. His throat was parched, and felt like it was coated in sand.

Suddenly Kal started to panic, he had never been without water for this long before! When mermans went too long without water they died! Their vital organs failed them, just dried up, and they succumbed to the gravity of land and died.

He was going to die too.

Sparse remnants of salty tears pooled in the corners of his dry eyes as he shook with ragged breathing. Finally, he came to his senses. He was not a merman, he would not die, Kal thought almost bitterly.

An hour or so passed as Kal's mind fully cleared. He began running through his head a list of possible things to say when the guars came for him, as he was sure (or at least hoped) they would. But his thinking was always intterupted by worrying. Where was Antonella? Was she all right? What if when he had left her something horrible had happened.

Then his thoughts would turn to Greylyn, and he would experience terrible schenarios in which they had just thrown her out or locked her in a dungeon to rot. They wouldn't would they? She would die. Kal's heart raced, fighting the last remnants of the poison, his head thudding with a painful headache.

Suddenly the door opened, Kal's head whipped towards the clunking so fast he felt pain in his neck. His heart raced as he forced himself to sit up straight and look blankly at the door.

The black faun entered he carried Kal's possesions in one hand, and a centuar stood in the doorway as torchlight flooded the dim. Kal blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light and the faun who stood in front of him, glowering down.

"Has...has she been found yet?" He croaked. His eyes pleaded, his blank facade breaking down. The faun's countenance, however, was unmoved.

"No, she has not." He spoke curtly, his nostrils flaring and thin black eyebrows glowering over his steely eyes. "And you are going to tell me why,"

Kal took severel deep breaths. "Greylyn," he gasped "Is she.."

"The elf girl is fine," The faun tossed aside irritably. "Now answer me, I want to know everything about you."

Kal knew the best policy then was honesty. So he started at the beginning, about his adoption to his leaving to find others like him and to learn to read. To meeting Antonella, everything about exactly how he had at first almost hunted her, then met her and spoke, finally found out she was a princess and met Greylyn, who promptly became very sick. The only thing he left out was wanting to leave Neverland. That wish suddenly felt very strong and private in the company of this evil looking being with harsh eyes and harsher purpose. After he finished speaking, the faun sat in silence for a long time.

"You know what I think Mr. Merash?" He said finally.Kal stared at him, holding his breath, hoping...

"I think you are a liar, and mark my words, unless the princess herself returns without a scratch on her, you will rot in this cell for the rest of your life," He seethed.

Kal's heart beat wildly. "No!" he yelled, his throat cracking. "No... please."

The faun turned however, without another word, and walked to the door. The centuar guard walked in, left Kal a bowl of water, then walked out after the faun, bolting and locking the door with noisy clicks behind him, leaving Kal to shake in his own fear and despair.

---------------------

"So Sir, did you get anything from him first round?" The chesnut centaur asked the faun as they walked up the winding dungeon steps.

"Nothing," the Sir Marjx scowled. The centuar spoke consolingly.

"Well, I'm sure next round.." he trailed off in dark, but weirdly hopeful tones.

"Nah, I'm afraid the stupid human is telling the truth about Antonella, stupid girl, always wandering off," He said, "Though I'll check with the elf first. There is something he's not telling me though." His head jerked irritably toward Kal's bag that he was carrying.

"Their is a fold of papers in their, a diary. It's how someone from the other world found Neverland. His blasted parents I'd assume." Marjx glowered darkly. The centuar stared in confused wonderment as he stopped at the door to the upper floors, let Marjx out, and returned to his guard post.

--------

Sunlight shone through the windows atop the infirmery as Dr.Strow dozed in a squashy armchair in his office. The clock chimed, startiling Dr.Strow from his nap. He fixed his spectacles, askew on his face, and began cooking breakfast, before trotting out to check on Greylyn.

"Oh goodness! You're awake! Ah, and my favorite teacup too. My daughter gave me those last holiday. Ah, but no use crying over spilled tea is there? I am unusually scatterbrained after last night," Dr.Strow spoke to Greylyn cheerily as he cleaned up the mess and handed her a glass of water and three pills of varying colors.

"Drink up, or, swallow up that is. I'm impressed by your recovery!" He said, smiling at her as though she'd given him a great treat. "Now how are you feeling? Still very weak I suppose? Any nausea? Are you hungry? I made eggs! They're herb infused you know, so very healthy for you." He bustled back to his stove top and returned with a healthy sized platter of hot scrambled eggs, a sprig of parsly set on the top. He fixed up a tray and set it over her lap.

"There you go dear," He smiled. "Oh, and I helped your friend Kal last night. The wound was not serious, I stitched it up, and his leg will be right as rain in the long run."

Strow began eating his own, smaller plate, stopping to sip a tall glass of water. "Now where were we..." He consulted his notes.

Suddenly Marjx burst through the double doors at the end of the hall, storming up the aisle to the bed. Strow's cheerful countenance quickly faded to one of disapproval.

"Please Marjx, I'm with a patient," He said sternly. Sir Marjx nodded to him.

"I'm sorry Dr.Strow, but this is a matter of utmost importance." He drew up a chair for himself on the other side of Greylyn's bed.

"Now I've just been to talk with your friend about Princess Antonella's kidnapping," He said meanly. "If you ever want to see him again your stories better match up about what happened. So talk. Why were you sick? What were you and Kal Merash doing with the princess in the middle of the woods?"

The elf forced herself into a sitting position to look Marjx in his eyes.

“Sir,” she spat, “You should not assume that I care for Mister… Merash.” Marjx eyed her carefully. “Because I don’t,” she added, her eyebrows lifting

“You must hate it, hm? Not knowing everything?” the elf forced a smirk onto her face, her sickly body exhuming disdain.

After a breif pause, Marjx's face twisted into a horrible smile. "Why yes I do, Miss Greylyn, I despise not knowing everything. It's my job, hmm? As head of military, to know everything,"

"But, I'm glad to hear you hold no friendship with Mr.Merash, Miss Greylyn," He said, his mouth caressing the words silkily. "He's no friend of mine either. What with the kidnapping and all that, base treachery really does put a damper on his otherwise sparkling personality." He smirked horribly.

"He probably was trying the same to you, no? If the bumbling fool hadn't accidently hit the castle, I'm sure he would have run you straight off to the Shadow Kingdom. Why, in your weakened state, it'd be easy for them to pry your shadow right off of you,"

His voice was low and dark. He ran his pale pink tongue over his teeth, deep eyes shining.

"It's sad, some people will do anything...to get what they want..." He reached into his exquisite green and brown embroidered satchel, and pulled out Kal's sack cloth one.

"Human's. Trouble as Lost Boy's, but they at least never grow up. This, foundling," He spat. "Is not subject to that...blessing. Or curse, if you will. The pompous, arrogant man assumes that Neverland is not good enough for him." His loud voice paused, then spoke softly into the ensuing silence.

"They say that shadows, weakening the bonds between worlds, are the only ones that know a way back to our paralell, the war ridden Other World. And it appears Mr. Merash would do... well, just about anything to get there." He revealed the leather bound parcel of notes. "A elf shadow would make a good prize, a good bartering tool, don't you think?" He said, his eyebrow raising.

"So good, Greylyn, with your blessing I'll let him rot. What I wish for you to tell me is if you remember anything about the princess's disappearance. Just detail the moment you met her to where you fell ill enough for the criminal to try and take advantage of," He said silkily. "All we want to do is find her. Let's not bother anymore about Mr.Merash, he is where he should be."

Sir Marjx eyed her carefully for a long time, frowning. Finally, satisfied temporarily, he stood haughtily and nodded to Dr.Strow.

"Thank you Dr.Strow, I apologize for disturbing you and the patient. And thank you, Ms.Greylyn, for your cooperation." He turned and strode down the aisle, opening the tall doors at the end and vanishing through them.

At his absence Strow let out a sigh, he bustled to his office and returned with a piping hot pitcher of black tea. He poured himself a cup and then motioned to the food and medicine upon her tray.

"Drink up, eat up. It's the only way to get better," He said, somewhat distractedly, running his fingers through his white hair, looking anywhere but the door and Greylyn. He started as someone walked through them, but it was just a maid. A middle age, black and white spotted pony centuar, with a tight bun and a calm face. She brought a mop and a bucket and began cleaning the tan and white tiled floors that had astronomical designs on them. A duster lay beside her bucket, and she promptly picked that up and began to dust the magic orbs that had faded into milk white globes and remove the cloudy layer of filth from the glass of the oil lamps. The floors soon sparkled in the light that shone through the upper windows. Portions of abstract stain glass cast red, cyan, orange, magenta and white glows upon the many, clean starched beds, empty of any patients but Greylyn for the moment.

Finally, as if deciding something, he strode toward the maid who was at the other side of the room, cleaning an old tea stain. He spoke softly to her, writing something on a slip of paper that was tucked in his white overcoat and giving it to her. After finishing her current chore, she left her items against the mahogany wood paneled walls and trotted compliantly out the door, the paper tucked into her black shift.

In a moment or two Strow returned, walking over to Greylyn's bedside and returning to his tea, which smelled herbal and harsh in the light morning air. He closed his wrinkled eyes and when he opened them, a little spark of their cheerfulness had return, more of a soft warmth, though gaurded, as he returned his gaze to Greylyn expectantly.

The doctor took a long sip of black tea, as Greylyn spoke.

"Ah Miss, I wouldn't lie to you," He said, though, troubled, he wondered if he should. "I'm concerned about Sir Marjx's attitude toward the current investigation. He knows, he really does, that Merash has nothing to do with the Princesses disappearance, but he has no intention of releasing him."

Anger suddenly glinted in his eyes. "It's barbaric. What is this land coming too. Corruption is as corrosive to our saftey as is the gathering shadows and strange kidnappings," He set his teacup down rather forcefully on the table, drops of black tea splattering the mahonany wood.

Strow massaged his temples. "Marjx can't order a death warrant without sufficiant evidence, but as Antonella is still missing he has all the right in the world to keep him held in prison. My only conclusion is that he must literally wish to let Merash rot in there. Dungeon's arn't known for their health qualities."

He sat quietly for a while, then took another sip of his tea. "Anyway, I asked dear Ms. Madeline to go to the kitchen and have my friend the chef prepare the first catch of the day in traditional shashimi style, ethnic merfolk food, to be brought here. Marjx no doubt has every intention of letting the poor soul starve, and since I've initiated contact as his doctor, it's my job to keep him in at least passable health," He grimaced, then glanced at Greylyn's pale face.

"Don't worry, even if Marjx finds out, he won't dare deny me. I hold a considerable power to the military because of my skill in treating wounds. Marjx, not understanding compassion, wouldn't wish to get on my bad side for fear I skimp on treating his men."

In a distinctly bad mood, Dr.Strow cleaned up the barely eaten platters of eggs and returned them to the overflowing, deep porcelin sink in his office quarters. He returned with a cut grapefruit, sprinkled with sugar and ground vitamin.

"Here, this should be easier to eat," He said quietly. "You need your strength." A bit of the smile returned to his eyes, and as he sat down next to her again, he pulled out a large medical book from beneath her bed, turned to a bookmarked chapter, and began reading it in complete focus.

Reluctantly Strow glanced up from his thick texts as Greylyn spoke. He listened carefully, then sighed as she finished the end of her speech and began gingerly lifting herself from the soft white bed. He stood up and walked around, extending his arm for her to steady herself upon.

"I won't deny you, miss. But we must be cautious, Marjx would not take to kindly if he heard you had been to visit Merash. But if we are going to go, we are going to go on my conditions." He eyed her, gauging her motivation for visiting Kal.

"One, is that you will have something to eat or drink. I don't care what, just put something in your stomach. Your system needs to regulate itself, it needs energy and to heal from its ordeal." He said, grabbing the cusioned chair Marjx had used and offering it to her.

"Second, is that you will let me take you in our wheelchair," He pointed to the other side of the room, near the maids mops and duster, where a wooden chair sat with a foot rest, a plaid blanket lay across it. Four shiny wooden wheels sat under its base.

"You'll never make it all the way to the dungeon walking, and, forgive me, I am too old to carry you. But you must abide by my conditions or else I'm not taking you," He said firmly, but his eyes were kind, he wanted to help her.

After a moment, the door reopened, and the centuar maid entered docily, carrying a whicker basket that contained a closed silver dish and a pitcher of cold water, covered with a white cloth napkin. She brought it to Dr.Strow, who thanked her warmly, and then she returned to her mopping, making the already clean and warm infirmery sparkling. Dr.Strow set it gently on the end of the bed, then walked to the other side of the room and wheeled the wooden wheelchair over. He looked over his spectacles at Greylyn calmly.

Dr.Strow stared at her calmly, as if this resistance was not at all unexpected.

"Now listen, Miss, you are not the first person who has balked at sitting in a wheel chair, though as a doctor I think it is a most silly thing, disregarding your health, which is one of the most important gifts we have. Especially since you just need to sit in one to go down the hall and some stairs." He said, sternly, but not meanly.

"If you insist on walking, even if you can make it all the way down to him, it would take ages and you will be noticed. You'll be walking tommorow, but now, being strong for your friend is up to you. I imagine he would give anything to be wheeled around in a comfortable chair rather than chained to the bottom of a dungeon." He continued. "So I guess it's just up to you to decide if you're willing to sacrifice a bit of pride to help your friend. Those are my conditions Greylyn," He said firmly, pulling a cusion from the seat he had sat on and positioning it on the wooden seat. He threw the plaid blanket over the firm wood back of it, and placed the pills, her water, and the grapefruit half with a silver spoon in her hand.

"It's up to you, if this is too much, then I suggest you lay back down and rest," He said softly, his eyes gazing at her warmly. "If you decide not, tell me now. I really should be bringing this down to Mr.Merash." He picked up the basket and his gray eyes wandered to the door.

Greylyn sat herself down the padded wheel-chair, her arms crossed tightly and her face set stonily. Dr.Strow gave a light sigh, a grudging smile playing on the edge of his lips.

"All right then," He said. Strow picked up the basket of food and set it gently on her lap. "Do you mind holding this?" he asked quietly, then walking back around to grasp the wood cylindrical handles of the chair in his wrinkled, but still sharp hands.

Strow wheeled the wooden chair down the aisles between the beds. The sun was now shining brightly through the stained glass windows at the top of the high roof, casting them in shades of rainbows as they eased down the aisle and to the large, pale oak doors. Strow pushed one open a crack and stepped through with Greylyn, leaving the maid in cheery solitute as they left the area of gentle respite.

The halls were long, plated with fine wood paneling, draped in exquisite tapestries of centuars hunting and fauns dancing. Gold flaked tables and painted clay vases filled with lilys lined the edge of the walls. The floor was a cool gray marble with iron ore designs making simple, angular patters across the floor. The windows in here were fresh glass, also on the ceiling, and letting in a simple light that was warmed at ground level by spacedly lit candelabras that were fixed to the walls in brass.

There was no one in this portion of the castle at the moment, almost all attending to more important matters in the great halls, meeting rooms, and looking for Princess Antonella especially. Strow only passed a maid or two, dusting and mopping uniformly to keep the empty place spotless. After a few twists of the hallways, Strow wheeled Greylyn over to a discreet door, small, but made of heavy oak and barred with iron. Strow pulled a silver ring of keys from his medical frock pocket, fiddling with them until he came to a short heavy one. He insirted it into the keyhole, and after a satisfying click, pushed it open with a small grunt.

It revealed a long and winding stone staircase, the wall and the steps made of the same smooth granite pasted together with a dark morter. Individual torches lined the dark stairwell every six feet or so, and they cast grimy, oily shadows on the walls behind them. Strow found it hard to conceal his disgust, the corners of his mouth curving downward. He pushed Greylyn inside on the large front step, and closed the door behind them. It shut heavily, a muted boom echoing down the stairs that curved every few feet, so you couldn't see the bottom.

"Hang on now," Strow said calmly. He held the wheelchair firmly as he slowly wheeled it down step after step, a small jerk every step, but as smooth as possible. Sometimes he let go with one hand to lean against the wall as he turned the chair, navigating the tight space with no hand railings.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was really only about two minutes, they reached the bottom. Their was a dank, heavy scent in the air that forboded the pounds of stone, dirt and mortar above them.

The bottom was a circular room, not very large, but not that small, where a chesnut centuar sat at at small table, playing a version of primitive solitare with cloth cards that had strange symbols on them. Torches lit the room in a firey light that bathed the center of the room, but left the corners a sooty black. Six heavy doors with a short barred window at the top branched off of the circular stone room.

The chesnut looked up as they entered the room, looking surprised. "Ah, Dr.Strow, it's you....and the elf," He nodded once to her in obligatory curtousy before turning back to the doctor.

"I was expecting someone different I suppose, since I heard the clunking. Thought it might be some torture machine," He grinned shiftly, then was suddenly and immediatly shut down by Dr.Strow's glare.

"Mr.Febeus, this man is not a shadow, and there will be no torture of him. Sir Marjx discussed the matter with me himself," He said loudly. The centuar shrugged, looking embaressed. "Yes sir, forgive me," He said, searching the doctors face for signs of softening. None came.

"I need to see my patient, Mr.Merash. So does this girl. I assume that our visit will not reach any ears," He said sharply, pulling a white bag from his coat and throwing it on the table where coins clinked softly. The chesnut, glanced at the bag greedily, then nodded, his eyes wide, to Dr.Strow.

"On my honor sir..." He said, pulling the bag toward him and stashing it in the brown vest he was wearing. He threw Strow a key from his ring.

"Your honor..." Strow muttered, pushing Greylyn towards the door across the room on the right. "Is worth nothing."

He unlocked the door and grabbed a torch from the wall, mounting it in a bracket inside the cell. He glanced at Greylyn's face, and softened slightly.

"I'll let you and him have a few moments to talk, then I'll examine him and we'll have to leave. Here, you can give him his food and that jug of water." Strow reached into the basket and opened the silver dish. Inside was a long roll of raw fish that had been sliced into bite sized portions and wrapped in dried seaweed, a fine example of merfolk cuisine. Strow wheeled her to face Kal, who was suddenly bathed in the torch light. Strow walked back to the door, closed it except for a small crack, and stood outside, facing away from the door, another sigh rising on his breath.

----------------------------

After Marjx had left, Kal had drank the water left for him, forcing his face into the small wood bowl and slurping up whatever drop he could get, though in his sloppy quest for drink ended up with alot of it dripping down his grimy forehead and neck. And then he sat there, awake, his leg aching dully and his stomach frequently attacking him with crys of hunger. His hands were rubbed raw, he had been offered no reprive from the harsh shackles except for when the guard had forcefully let him up to relieve himself in a stinking bucket.

Finally, drifting in and out of a painful, harsh sleep, thoughts of rescue, home, and leaving Neverland all chasing themselves around his mind, a harsh ray of firelight startled him from his udulating sleep.

He blinked his long blond lashes quickly, his blue eyes squinting like a creature of the darkness as he tried to adjust to the newfound light. He tried to say something, but his dry throat blocked it. As he struggled into a sitting position instead of being sprawled and suspended by his wrists. A line of blood trickled down one.

Finally, blinking startledly for a moment up at his visitor, Kal realized who was sitting in front of him on a high wood chair.

"Greylyn?" He croaked incredulously. A broken smile crept across his face, "Good shark, Greylyn, you're okay! I thought that aweful faun might have dumped you in a ditch somewhere and just lied to me! He seemed to be lying about everything else!" Kal broke off, words falling him. He coughed heavily, then resumed.

"Has Antonella been found? Is she okay? Is she gonna let me out of here? Hardehar...." Kal laughed nervously, his neck craning backward to look up at Greylyn. Her smooth black hair was slightly mussed from sleep, and she still was unusually pale, but he could see her strength had returned to her. Well...that was a relief at least.

As he ran his eyes over her and the chair, he spotted the shiney pink fish meat wrapped in glistening, dry green. Moisture rushed to his mouth.

"Oh shark, is that food? Blimey I'm starved," Kal said in breathless desperation.

Kal opened his mouth as Greylyn, kneeling on the hard cold stone in front of him, extended a peice of the fish out to him. Kal clumsily bit it with his mouth, and then chewed the cool, slick peice with relish, a burst of smooth, distinct fish flavor exploding into his mouth. "Mmmmm...." He said, closing his eyes in pure enjoyment. He had never enjoyed food more than this moment, his stomach and body wretched and starving. Kal felt muscles in his neck loosen a little.

"Aw man, thats good stuff," He said, swallowing and taking a deep breath. He glanced back up at Greylyn, being able to smile a little bit more, his eyes feeling slightly damp with stark relief. Then his brows wrinkled tiredly with a distant concern as he realized her face was crumpled with sorrow, lines of sadness creasing from her celery green eyes.

"Oh Mister Kal, you look aweful," She choked out, Kal felt a rush of color to his cheeks. He forced himself to laugh.

"Thanks, personally I thought I was looking pretty peachy for being locked in a dungeon. With no food I might add," He said, with a sharp pang in his stomach, his hunger spiking with the tidbit of food it had recieved. Kal searched her face, wondering the answers to questions he hadn't figured out yet. Man, how he ached to get out of this dungeon and back to the ocean. The urge was so strong it was like a physical need, his body yearning for the freedom and healing comfort of the water. Where nothing could touch him. Kal shifted his feet out from under his knees uncomfortably. His huge feet were caked with dirt and the black layer of filth from the cell.

Greylyn was still forming disjointed sentences, saying things like "I didn't," and "You shouldn't." Kal breathed. He breathed, and tried to think of some words of comfort, to himself and to Greylyn, though he had to admit to himself, the only words that came to him, echoing in his mind, were awefully grim.

"Here, I have some water," Greylyn lifted a porcelin jug, placing the curved pourer to his lips and tilting it. Water flooded Kal's mouth. He drank, he swallowed the incoming tide of fresh cool water as fast as it entered his mouth, coating his dusty throat and filling his stomach with the liquid of life. He felt his dusty thoughts clear, maybe his blood flowed better with the rush of the water. He slowly straightened his back, and drank until every last drop was gone from the now empty jug.

Kal breathed, the coating of simple water making the air maybe a bit less sooty. Maybe a bit more wholesome. He returned his gaze to her eyes, the blueness of his, that so often looked like the sunlight on the bottom of a shallow pool, had regained a little bit of their sparkle, though in the dim cell, the lines of light in his irises took on a paler, ashier shade.

"Thank's Greylyn," He said, after a strange silence while he reorganized himself and his thoughts. "And...just don't worry about it, 'kay? I'm sure you would've done the same for me,"

He stopped, blinking at her as he remebered how little he still knew about her. A short terse shake of his hair, the ends curling in the dampness, signaled his end of thought. Now was not the time. He had to get out of here somehow.

"So...Antonella hasn't returned I take it?" He asked gingerly, anxiety eating away at his edges. "So what, do I get a trial? Who overrules that crazy faun? Um...I'm not just going to sit here forever right?" He laughed nervously again.