As Aidan was winging his way into the night, leaving the bloody scene in the monastery basement behind in body, if not in mind, his double was sitting in a dim cell in the basement of the half ruined castle. He had awoken there some hours after having been knocked out. He checked himself over, not for harm but for hidden items. They'd gotten his obvious boot dagger, and of course the ones at his belt were gone, as was the one that went down the back of his shirt. The one concealed in his belt was still there, though, as well as the less obvious boot dagger, and the hidden pocket in the other boot still held his lock picks. He grinned at that. He would be out of here in no time.

But when he took at look at the door his confidence went out like a light. There was no keyhole, there was instead a metal plate with a hexagonal indentation in the center. A mage lock. The two sides of the latch were actually one solid piece of metal until it was opened with the matching "key," a hexagonal rod with a particular spell cast on it. You might get it open with some other spell, and there were tools that could short out the magic, if you knew what you were doing. Aidan had used them before, he even owned a few, but he hadn't known he would be facing a mage, so he hadn't brought them. He surveyed the rest of the room. It was spacious, for a prison cell, but floor, ceiling and walls were made of solid stone, and there were no windows to the outside. In fact the only features to the room were the door and a selection of iron rings driven into the far wall, which he presumed were for chaining prisoners to. Otherwise the cell was totally bare. He sat down and sighed. He wasn't going anywhere. He could only hope that Flame Song was faring better than he was.

After three days he was still alone in the cell, and he took that as a good sign. It meant that they probably hadn't caught Flame Song. He hoped that would succeed and come to his rescue quickly. Here I am, needing rescue yet again, he thought with a sigh. I hope someday I am finally done with this sort of thing and can actually live in peace.

The other Flame Song had looked in on him several times. There was a small window in the door which allowed her to get a good look at him. So far she hadn't said anything to him, only looked. He ignored her for the most part, though if he were being honest with himself he had to admit that she unnerved him thoroughly. The way her expressions twisted the familiar features of his wife's face was disturbing.

Her visits were the only variety in his confined existence, though he did not at all look forward to them. But there was no delivering of meals, and the traditional prisoner’s fare of bread and water would have done him little good had it been provided. His nutritional needs were quite different, and they were beginning to become a problem. He usually fed about every other night, and as he hadn’t fed the night he’d been captured, it had now been four full days since he’d last eaten. Hunger was a constant gnawing presence in his stomach and he was beginning to wonder how long he could hold out. The longest he’d ever gone without food before had been six days, and by the end he’d been in a sorry state.

He was sitting on the floor and counting the stones in the opposite wall out of sheer boredom when he heard two sets of footsteps approaching his cell. His keen hearing could distinguish them clearly. One set belonged to Flame Song, the other was a heavier tread that he’d heard dimly overhead before. He presumed it must belong to some servant or companion of his captor. Both sets of feet halted before his door. Then the door swung inward. The figure framed in the doorway was a large one, nearly twice Aidan's height and probably twice as broad as well. Large mobile ears framed an upstanding crest of spiky hair, and below that yellow eyes were set above a blunt muzzle lined with sharp teeth. A gnoll. Its gender was impossible to tell, he had no idea what to look for. Somewhat to Aidan's surprise it was dressed in a loose shirt of cream colored linen and a pair of trousers that had to have been tailored specially for its oddly shaped legs. He had seen such creatures before, but they were usually dressed in rags or mis-matched pieces of rusted armor. And they were also usually matted and filthy, but this creature was neatly groomed.

The gnoll stepped into the cell and closed one large, clawed hand around Aidan's arm. Aidan could have shrugged it off, and might even have been able to fight the thing and win, though it bore a wicked-looking axe at its belt and he was unarmed, but he wasn't quite sure if he could or not, particularly weakened with hunger as he was starting to become. And besides, he still had his mission. Flame had quite likely succeeded, but she might not have, and he might well get a chance to find out how the pair had known of Radu's plans.

So he came along meekly enough as Flame led the way through a large chamber that was cluttered with some very alarming implements which Aidan recognized, and some he didn't but which he suspected might be even more alarming. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that she has a torture chamber, he thought, a little shocked all the same. That room led out into a corridor, which ran to the base of the same flight of stairs he'd descended when he arrived. She led him down the hall he'd been trapped in, and into the room at the far end.

Once they were inside the gnoll released him and left without a word, shutting the door behind it. Aidan surveyed the room. Whatever it had originally been, it was now as lavish as anything he'd seen in the Queen's castle. Deep red was the predominating color, with accents of gold and emerald green. Dark walnut furniture with black iron fittings completed the look. A full-length mirror that covered half of one wall reflected the room, and Flame Song, but neglected to reflect Aidan. All this was peripheral, however, because the dominating feature of the room was the canopied bed, in red velvet and dark walnut to match the rest of the room. Or perhaps the rest of the room was decorated to match it. Aidan looked over at Flame Song. She was looking back with a smile that could only be called predatory. That combined with the bed gave him an uncomfortable suspicion. She was eying him from head to toe with a look that he couldn't even imagine seeing on his wife's face, and especially not when it was directed at someone other than her husband.

Apparently she liked what she saw. Aidan was still without his shirt, as his double had taken it in order to impersonate him. He was wearing only his trousers, his boots, and the black iron collar that he never removed. His shirtless figure was slightly built and very lean, but well muscled nevertheless. His face was clean-shaven despite three days without access to a razor. He’d discovered since becoming a vampire that his hair no longer grew, which was convenient since it would have been difficult to shave without the use of a mirror.

His wings were folded very tightly against his back, the aerian equivalent in body language of folding one’s arms closely. He was downright unnerved by the situation, but tried to return the mirror Flame’s appraising gaze without flinching. She was dressed in a clinging low-cut gown of green velvet. Her hair was loose about her bare shoulders and her intense green eyes bored into his own. She stepped closer to him and he involuntarily backed up a step. She laughed, a low, throaty sound, and moved in closer. Aidan took only two more steps before he found his back to the wall. She had him cornered and she took advantage of it. She ran her fingers down his bare chest, stopping when she reached his belt line and lingering for a moment before going up again. He pressed back against the wall. He had no idea what to do about this. He had expected to be quizzed, or to be attacked or even to be killed, but he had not expected to be seduced. Threat of injury he could deal with, but this?