True despair was a new feeling for Delvik, and he decided that he really didn’t care for it as he hung, suspended by his arms in the dark room. He knew fear and sadness like old friends, they had walked beside him most of his life. He knew happiness and joy with just a bit less familiarity, but eh, that was the world he lived in. Despair, that bleak void that hung in his heart, swallowing any and every spark of hope, that feeling of dread that everything he had worked for; his dreams and plans would all just vanish like dust in the wind. Nope, he really didn't care for it, especially the spiraling thought.

The watchers hadn’t even really questioned him that first day. Just strapped him to a chair and beat him senseless. Oh they had asked questions, “Are there any other Humans?”. “Are there any other entrances?”. “What weapons does it possess?”, but, Delvik thought, those weren’t the questions they really wanted to ask. They just wanted excuses to hit him, to soak him in cold water, to hurt him. Delvik smiled unseen in the room, for a group that feared and hated Humans, he thought, they sure liked acting like the worst of them.

The second day was when the real questioning began, that was when the head Watcher stepped in personally to lead the interrogation. Delvik hacked and spit a wad of blood flecked phlegm on the floor. Telnir had asked the right questions, the questions that let Delvik get a glimpse of what he was after. The disgust he felt for that creature made him snarl just thinking about it. Something was wrong with that Rakus, Delvik thought with a shiver that ran from the base of his skull to the tip of his tail, Telnir had taken pleasure from inflicting pain. It was the eyes he thought, those flat, glassy eyes that would look straight through you as it repeated the question while pressing a glowing hot piece of metal against flesh.

Not even the Arvo were that depraved, and that thought startled Delvik back into the present.

HIs arms and shoulders had long since gone numb from being held above his head by the ropes. He could take some of the weight off them by standing, but he was just so tired. The watchers hadn’t come by in what seemed like forever in the dark room. His stomach growled loudly in the silence, he could barely remember the last time they poured the watery gruel down his throat. Letting out a groaning croak, Delvik tried to call out to his jailors, but got no answer.

Slumping further, his feet sliding out behind him and leaving him hanging at an angle. He could feel the pressure on his chest, squeezing the breath out of him as his heart rate began to increase. Delvik knew he was dying, and could feel his body failing him bit by bit. He wanted to laugh, that monster had spoken of using Delvik to lure out his friend. Well, he thought, good luck luring him out with a corpse. The feeling of something wrapping around his chest increased, his head started to feel light, and with a rasping groan, Delvik pulled his feet underneath him and stood.

He wouldn't give that motherless rat the satisfaction of killing him that way. No, if Delvik was going to die, it would be spitting in the eye of his captor. Delvik let the anger he felt at Telnir and his little plans bolster his strength. As the pressure on his chest lessened, his mind drifted back to his ideas, of Thomas and the shelter, and his mentor.

Delvik tried to laugh, but it turned into a coughing fit as he thought about his mentor. He could almost hear the voice, chiding him that if he didn’t want to get tortured and killed, he shouldn’t get caught. He smiled at that, and he let his mind drift into the past, leaving the pains of the body behind when the door to the room crashed open, and a Rakus went tumbling tail over head across the room.

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The brightness from the hall hurt his eyes, the sounds half drowned out by his racing heartbeat. Delvik tried squinting, but could barely make out blurred shapes moving into the room. Delvik felt calloused paws grip the sides of his head while others grabbed at his chest. He tried to bite at the wrist next to his muzzle but only got a mouthful of old leather. What new torture was this, he thought, and then he felt the ropes holding his arms up go slack and he collapsed into the hands holding him up.

Delvik tried to struggle as he was laid down on the floor. Sharp tingling was spreading down his arms. He felt one of the figures lean over him, he could hear muffled talking but couldn't make out words. He flinched as water was splashed on his face, but it was not freezing cold, simply cool. Realizing it was drinking water he opened his mouth and felt it being poured in carefully. His mind was racing, what was going on, was this some new trick?, he thought.

Squinting his eyes, as the trickle of water stopped, Delviks heart froze. “Tea..cher” he croaked, “….how…why?”

“Questions later my boy, you're safe now” Master Indral said gently as he patted Delvik on the shoulder, “let us get you out of here and then you can explain the mess you got yourself into.”

Delvik simply nodded, confusion and fear and hope fighting for control of his mind.

“M’ria, you and Sev carry him. Dulc and I will lead, Gerv and Talli follow and keep any of those tailless cowards away.” Indral ordered, the other elder Rakus moving to do as asked. “We will take the escape tunnels back to the surface”

Delvik saw rage flash in his teachers’ eyes as he looked at Delviks prone form. The watchers had been thorough in their work. He tried to grit his teeth as he was lifted off the floor, but a pained groan escaped anyway. His eyes were quickly adapting to the light coming into the room, he could make out the prone form the the watcher that had been used to bash open the door against the side of the room. Then he was out, through the doorway and into the hallway. Through pain blurred vision he could make out the forms of more watchers, laying prone and scattered down the hall.

The two carrying him moved swiftly down the hallway with him in between them, an arm around each one, his feet barely touching the ground. Delvik could hear an indistinct rumbling sound, echoing from further into the Burrow. “Waz..zat” he tried to ask as each step sent jolts of pain through his body.

“Sounds like those girls held up their end of the bargain”, the female, M’ria he thought her name was, said.

The male, Sev nodded and said “looks like whatever you said to the Matrons moved them, they were trying to figure out a way to help you when we dropped in to have a little chat”.

A shout went up from behind, “STOP THEM, THEY’RE TRYING TO ESCAPE WITH THE TRAITOR”

The sound of fighting broke out behind them as the group sped down the hallways. Delvik tried to turn his head to see, but the pain stopped him.

Through the twisting and turning labyrinth of tunnels they moved, the rumbling of shouting voices growing dimmer. Twice more they were attacked by watchers, and twice he watched in awe as his teacher and, if he wasn't mistaken, the old bartender of the Knotted Tail, Dulc, swiftly defeat the attackers. Delvik could feel his consciousness beginning to slip as the journey turned into a series of still frames. He fought to stay conscious, fearful of this being a dream and the next time he opened his eyes, he would be back in the room. That this whole escape was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Delvik lost that fight, his eyes fluttered and his body went limp.

***************************************************

Wakefulness came slowly, his head was groggy and it felt like he was slowly clawing his way out of sleep. His eyes cracked open slowly, the darkness of the room making his heart stop. No, he thought, his heart sinking and dread filling its place.

“Welcome back buddy”, a familiar voice said.