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Finnegrin doesn’t loom. He doesn’t need to.
Instead, he nodded to Deadwood, and Callum watched as the thing around the creature’s knuckles crackle with lightning. Chained securely to the wall, and Callum already knows that he has no place to escape. His stomach clenched, his mind going curiously numb as it prepares him for the pain.
But at least it wasn’t Ez. It wasn’t Rayla. It wasn’t Soren. Villads.
Callum could take it. He had to.
He looked away.
The feather-light touch of a glove tilted his head upwards. Callum hadn’t even registered the sound of footsteps on the wooden planks. The scent of salt and brine assaulted his senses. So close that it was inescapable. The coin flipped through the fingers of Finnegrin’s hand with ease, an almost idle motion, rocking back and forth like a boat sways on sea.
“I am a reasonable elf, Callum.” Finnegrin said, a low whisper in Callum’s ear. “Just give me what I want, and you and your friends walk free. After all, one of your own has already done it. There is no need for pain. No need for you to hurt your friends.”
Callum jolted, as if struck. “If you even touch them-” His voice dropped to a snarl.
Finnegrin drew back. Amidst the hardness in his dark eyes, Callum saw the glitter of satisfaction. “I won’t even have to raise a finger.” He promised. He nodded to Deadwood, and before Callum could react, the creature took the first swing.
The force slammed him against the wooden pillar. His head snapped back from the power of it, mouth open in a short, harsh cry as the air was readily driven from his lungs, as he felt something crack and break. He tasted copper. His head rang.
“What- ” He wheezed, choking-
“Sound carries well over water.” Finnegrin informed him, his voice almost kind. “Perhaps you would do well to remember that.” The implied threat hung in the air.
The next hit was worse. The lightning ripped through him this time, locking up all his muscles and he couldn’t scream not even if he wanted to with the way that the contact burned his cheeks. The tears that slipped from his eyes was hot, like the pain was hot, a sharp knife caressing through his insides as the creature trailed its charged knuckles across Callum’s face and down the side of his neck and-
It dug in between his shoulder blades, pinning him in place without any give, any place for his body to react. He tasted the ozone first, and then he tossed his head back with a guttural scream.
His vision returned in splotches. His breath came in short, harsh pants, a fine tremor running like a crack over his entire body, and all he felt was the aftermath of the sparks that held his muscles taut and stretched, the second it failed him all at once and he sagged against the only thing holding him in place.
If he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend that he hears Rayla’s voice, calling his name.
He’s given a moment to breathe. Breathe. He just- had to- breathe. He sobbed the next breath as quietly as he could, shaking with the agony that lanced through him. The logical part of him knew that Finnegrin was not going to kill him, not yet, there’s something from him that the Tidebound elf still wanted, but Callum tethers also on the edge, lost within the throes of the desperate struggle to survive.
The blood that trickled from where it split his lip landed on the creature’s arm, staining the wood dark.
It was clear where this was heading.
(Callum, stubborn in his silence. Finnegrin, ruthless in his)
“Suit yourself.” Finnegrin sighed theatrically and the coin stilled in between in his third and fourth finger.
Callum flinched, long before the blows resumed raining down on him.
And all the while the captain watched, with nothing but the cold of the sea in his gaze. The cold of a watery grave. And if Callum was still conscious enough to hear it, the distant mourn of the ship’s crew as they sang well into the evening.
“Arghh!” Rayla yanked against the chains, the steel cold and biting, but that was nothing compared to the chill of the fear in her gut. It could almost be mistaken for the cold of the fog from the sea, but she knew better.
Finnegrin had taken Callum below deck, along with Zym and Bait and the rest of the wee Baitlings, and she had been helpless to do anything to stop it. She met Soren’s gaze grimly, and he returned in their silent conversation by scooting closer to Ezran. “Sea legs, huh?” He said loudly, “I get it now.”
“Aye.” Captain Villads said, uncharacteristically solemn. “It’d be that.”
“Crab-solutely crazy, right?” Soren shook his head.
Rayla let the forced chatter fade. She wondered, what did Finnegrin want?
Callum was- he was the most amazing person that Rayla had ever known. His display with stealing the wind from Finnegrin’s sails was certainly impressive, but now it also had attracted the attention of the wrong person. She thought of her first impression of the Tidebound elf - that shadowed figure, high above in the railings. She did not have to wonder what sort of acts he had done to maintain that sort of control.
Rayla was afraid. Of course she was.
She gave the chains another vicious tug. It did nothing. She eyed the empty chains where Nyx had been, right before she’d been allowed to fly free. There would be no hope of rescue from that one, Rayla thought resentfully. Worst still, she didn’t even know what deal the Skywing elf had cut with Finnegrin in exchange for that freedom.
Her arms ached. She knew that there would be bruises there - in the morning. If she even survived to see one.
“Rayla.” Ezran said softly. “Callum will be alright.”
But there was that same fear mirrored in his eyes.
She should have been comforting him, not the other way around. “I know, Ez.” She said, more confidently than she had any right to at that moment. “Callum, he’s- he’s strong.” Stronger than me. “He’ll be fine.” She hated that the words still felt like an untruth.
“If they wanted us dead, laddie,” Villads consoled, “We would have been all thrown overboard before you could say ‘argh ’.”
“Arghh.” Soren said. He waited a beat. Then smiled. “See, nothing?”
Rayla tried for a smile.
But the moment of levity was short-lived. The distant murmur of voices, too low for her to ever make out, was interrupted by the start of a sharp, pained cry. It was a noise that cut right through her bones and stilled her heart in her chest. She immediately knew who it belonged to.
Ezran’s face went white.
Soren sucked in a breath. Rayla thought she heard him mutter under his breath, “Oh crab.”
She herself barely had time to react, before it was followed by what could only be described as a scream, Callum screaming, she had never heard him make that sort of sound before, she- she had to- Callum- what was Finnegrin doing to him -
Something inside her snapped.
Almost before she registered the thought, her body was already moving. Rayla squared her shoulders and threw herself forward. The chains yanked her back just as viciously, metal grinding in the hot sea air. “CALLUM!” She raised her voice desperately, feet slamming against the part where her part of the chain connected to the deck.
Her eyes caught one of the nearby sailor’s. The man looked away just as quickly.
Something inside of her slipped even further.
Rayla aimed a particularly vicious kick, a low animal growl escaping her as she tried to set herself free. Her enemies were the chains that held her down, and there would be no mercy for that which stopped her from reaching Callum. She felt for weaknesses in the metal, the beginnings of a plan formulating in her mind, but for that she also knew she needed a little bit more time.
The silence of the gaps in between hurt equally like knives in her chest, the terror that bubbled up turning her reckless, even as she tried and failed to desperately grasp onto any semblance of calm that she still could muster. Callum had to be alive, he couldn’t be dead, she would know .
The three things that would haunt Rayla’s nightmares long after was this -
The glittering of salt waters and Ezran’s sniffled tears. The sound of creaking wood and the bite of metal holding her back.
And when Finnegrin had ordered her mage brought out-
Callum, slumped motionless on the deck and on his knees, bloodied and bruised and as defeated as she had ever seen him.
Her chains clicked. It dropped to the deck.
Rayla lunged.