Abhijat reached out and grabbed a fistful of Fasih’s cardigan, trying to shake him awake. It wasn’t easy. Any sudden movement made the chains jangle noisily, drawing the attention of the guards.

Fasih’s eyelids fluttered. He moaned, then shrank further into the corner, showing no signs of awakening.

Abhijat bit his lip to keep himself from growling in frustration.

Carefully, he wrapped the metal chains around one hand to keep them from clinking noisily together every time he moved. Then, he reached under his shirt and unbuckled his belt. As quietly as possible, he wrapped his fingers around the buckle pin and broke it off, before pushing it quickly up his sleeve and leaning back against the wall.

One of the guards glanced over at him, frowned, then turned away without saying a word.

Abhijat sighed, heart thundering in his chest. Over the next few minutes, while pretending to take a nap, he slowly kicked off one of his shoes and placed the pin between his big and index toes.

Fasih had shifted too far away for Abhijat to reach him with his bound hands, but he was still within kicking distance. The manacles around their legs were attached to slightly longer chains.

Positioning the pin between his toes as accurately as possible, he extended his leg towards Fasih inch by careful inch, trying not to make any noise. When he was close enough, he pulled slightly back, then jabbed the blunt head of the pin into Fasih’s neck as hard as he could.

Fasih jerked back, banging his head against the wall. His eyes flew open and he gasped, looking around groggily with terror-filled eyes.

Abhijat pressed his foot against Fasih’s shoulder, willing him to stay still, keep quiet, and not draw the guards’ attention to himself. “Be quiet,” he hissed, meeting Jehan’s panicked eyes. “Or you’ll get us both killed.”

For a second, something like shock flickered behind Fasih’s eyes. Then he stilled, breathing deeply. “What the–” he coughed, making his chains clink as he instinctively raised a hand to cover his mouth. “What the fuck? Don’t tell me you got us kidnapped!”

His eyes darted across the room, taking in the damp, concrete walls, the manacles around Abhijat’s limbs, and the armed guards standing at the door. “Of course you got us kidnapped,” he sighed, his tone melancholy.

Abhijat raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Well, at least you didn’t shoot me. For a second there, I almost thought you would.” He shook his head. “Should’ve known you’d just get yourself chained to a wall, instead. Very classy. Oh hey there, Milli! What brings you to our cozy little murder den?”

Abhijat whirled. Following Fasih’s gaze, he realized that the bundle of rags he’d noticed earlier was moving, a mess of tangled auburn hair sticking out from under the pieces of cloth.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, chains clinking, Ludmila Maganti blinked at them. Dazedly, she stared down at the manacles around her wrists. “Oh my God,” she whispered. It was almost a sob. “My God, he really did it.”

“Do you know how you got here?” Fasih asked her, his voice oddly gentle.

She shook her head. “I-I saw some cars pull up outside the house. I thought – I knew something was wrong. He’d threatened my mother–”

“Who?” Jehan asked. “The president?”

She nodded. “He’d told Mamma that if she – if she…” Milli trailed off, biting her lip as she stared fixedly down at her manacled hands.

“Yes?” Fasih prodded. “If she helped me, right? He threatened her because she was helping me.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Milli nodded, still refusing to meet their eyes. “I don’t remember much. I saw the cars, and then there were footsteps on the stairs. I tried to lock myself in my room but…” Her hand went to her neck, fingers caressing the skin below her ear.

“A tranquilizer dart,” Jehan said. “That’s what they used on us too. Or at least that’s what it felt like. Not that I had a chance to analyze–”

“I think,” Milli gulped and looked up to meet their eyes. Abhijat wondered if she’d been crying. “I think he wants to use me to…to blackmail my mother.”

“I’m sure President Maganti wants a lot of things,” Fasih shrugged. “And if wishes were horses, I’m sure he’d get a ride. Unfortunately for him, what he wants and what he’ll get are two very different things.”

Milli stared at him. “I-I don’t understand–”

“We’ll get out of here, is what I’m saying. But first, I need both of you to start talking in Birhani. Those guards mustn’t understand a word of what we’re about to discuss. You know the language, don’t you Milli?”

She nodded. “I lived in Naimar for a year, as part of an exchange program,” she said in fluent Birhani, only the slightest accent distinguishing her pronunciation from that of a native speaker. “Mamma always said I should practice, that it’ll be useful someday.”

“And she was right, as usual,” Jehan beamed. “Now, Milli, I’ll need you to start sobbing shortly, okay?”

“W-what?”

“Sobbing. Can’t you sob? It’s quite easy. Just gasp convulsively, as if you can’t breathe, over and over again. You don’t even need tears; it’s too dark in here to see them anyway. I’d do it myself, but I need to talk. And it’s hard to talk while sobbing, even if it’s only pretend.

“And not to be sexist, but I don’t think Abhijat here can sob convincingly at all.” He shook his head sadly, his tone one of mild disappointment.

“No, that’s not…” Milli swallowed, tried again. “I mean, why?”

“So they don’t think we’re planning anything.” He glanced briefly at the guards. “Nobody sobs while planning an escape. Very awkward way to go about it.”

“An escape isn’t possible,” Abhijat interjected grimly. “Believe me, I’ve tried. It’s impossible to get out of these things.” He jerked viciously at his manacles, cursing under his breath as they clanked in protest.

“A real ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” Fasih rolled his eyes. “Ever heard of optimism? Rinisa’s selling it at a discount today, you should buy some.”

“You heard that?” Abhijat frowned. “What she was telling me?”

“Some of it. It’s all kinda hazy. Awfully optimistic, that woman. Not very good at scheming, though. Her plans were so convoluted they gave me a headache. Simplicity, that’s what you need for a plan to work. Anything you can’t put in a nursery rhyme is too complicated to be reliable.”

Abhijat looked at him blankly. “What’re you–”

“A pinch of Amven, a pin that pricks

A key around the witch’s neck

Be a puppet, steal the key

Fool the warlock and you’ll be free.”

Jehan looked at them expectantly, a serene smile on his lips.

“Umm, what does that mean?” Milli’s voice was an intermingling of curiosity and trepidation.

“It’s our escape plan, of course,” Fasih said matter-of-factly. “In a nursery rhyme.”