Ezra collapsed his telescope and returned it to one of the pockets of a newly acquired dark, leather coat. He stood upon a pyramid shaped stack of boxes, one leg propped on the second tier; he turned back to Jacob.

“Yarr, ’tis barely a skeleton crew,” he grinned, “ripe for the pickins lad.”

The stable itself was on one end of a large, fenced in pasture for the horses to roam in. They determined it would be best to launch their offensive from inside the pen as the two visible guards were watching the approach from the city side. They circled around to the left of the stables and hopped the wooden fence, crouching low they scuttled towards the building from the side.

Hearing a noise Ezra leaped into a nearby hay stack and Jacob ducked around the corner of the building just as two more guards walked out the open rear of the stable. As the two men passed near Ezra’s hay stack he exploded out and slashed his hook across the throat of one guard and grabbing the other in a choke hold he dragged them both back into the stack.

Holding his breath, Jacob strained his ears, trying to determine if the other two guards had heard the commotion and were approaching. Hearing only the snorts and wickers of horses he motioned for Ezra to join him. Together they eased into the stable and crept up behind the two remaining guards, catching Ezra’s attention with a wave Jacob held up three fingers. After the silent three-count they pounced. Ezra employed another choke-hold that ended in a twisting snap of the guard’s neck and Jacob brained his target with a swift strike from his iron-tipped cudgel. They shuffled the bodies into an empty horse stall and moved on with their mission. Jacob went about calming the horses with shamanic mutterings while Ezra outfitted them. Soon enough they had a dozen steeds saddled and ready.

“You take the horses out through the pasture, they shouldn’t be here for the next part,” Jacob said, “I’m going to light this place up and then come join you.”

“Aye aye, be wary,” Ezra said, tying the horses together and leading them out the door.

Jacob walked into one of the stalls that had been freshly strewn with hay and planted his feet, reaching down into the earth for the heat residing there. Finding it, he beckoned the flame to come forth and feast on the hay.

Oddly the fire felt hesitant, as though it wanted to remain in the earth, which was unusual, especially so with the amount of dry hay waiting to be consumed. Thus it was that Jacob, deep in concentration, did not hear the guards enter the stable until they were almost upon him.

* * *

Running through a small courtyard flooded with water and out the other end Isaac turned and shouted “Andrew, now!”

Andrew was one of the young soldiers who had minor elemental magical abilities, hidden in an offshoot alley along a planned route he took his cue. Standing just outside the courtyard he reached down and place his palm flat on top of the water. With a grimace of concentration he extended his will into the water and changed it into a slick sheen of ice. The soldiers chasing Isaac reached the courtyard and collapsed into a heap on the slick surface.

Andrew withdrew his hand and ran down the alley. The soldiers had started to collect themselves and help each other to stand when Risha dropped a pallet of bricks on them from the rooftops.

They met up with Bethany and the other soldier two alleys over.

“I take it your escape went well also,” Isaac said breathlessly.

“It all went to pretty much to plan, Richard here put in a fairly impressive bit of climbing when we took a wrong turn down a dead end alley. In any event, we managed to get the guards where we needed them and the fires covered our retreat. Let’s keep on towards the rendezvous point.”

* * *

“It took you chumps long enough to get here,” said a large, hirsute guardsman, stepping from a cell back near the exit from the hall.

We all took a took a step forward and he held up a finger.

He tsked and said, “Not so fast lads. Gentlemen,” he loudly intoned, “come on out.”

The big man stepped back as rifle bearing guardsmen stepped out from the other cells.

“Now,” he continued, “Let’s be rid of those swords shall we?”

Jason looked to me and I to Kearse, who, with a slight shake of his head, bade us follow his example and lay down our arms.

Standing with empty hands held out “Now what?” I asked.

“I beg forgiveness...” Nicolas began.

“Silence prisoner!” shouted the guard, “Where was I? Oh, yes, kick those swords into the cell across from you and step over here, slowly.”

Jason snarled as we did as we were bid, sliding our swords into the food slot at the bottom of the door opposite us and slowly approaching the group of guards.

“Well me lads, see these fools to their cells, I must go and see to the capture of their friends,” said the head guard, mounting the stairs to leave. “Actually,” he said, turning back, “I changed my mind. Kill them.”

“What?!” cried Nicolas.

Kearse looked from us to the row of riflemen, lowered his shoulder and charged forward. The following moments are a jumble to me still.

I shouted “No!” and reached for him.

Kearse took on the aspect of a great Grizzly Bear, dropping to all fours he charged as his shoulders broadened and coarse brown and gray fur sprouted up all over his body.

The six guns went off. Two of the bullets flew wide as the riflemen panicked but the other four found their mark just before Kearse crashed in among them, rending and tearing with newly grown claws and teeth.

Something punched into my shoulder and I spun to the ground.

Jason and Nicolas hovered over me, hands pressed to my shoulder.

A bloody bear locked in battle with a large black Wolf.

A loud crunch.

The wolf stepped over Kearse’s body and stalked towards us.

I shoved my hand into the food slot under the door, grasping after the swords. My shoulder burned with the effort. My fingertips brushed metal as Jason was tossed down the hall by a back-handed blow and Nicolas scrambled away. The black wolf loomed over me, my hand closed over the blade of a sword, drawing blood. The Wolf’s large paw came down on my leg and I felt it fracture.

With the blood dripping down my hand and a fresh wave of pain blooming in my leg something within me stirred. At first I thought I was going to vomit in terror but when I opened my mouth, green flames erupted forth. The wolf was catapulted through the door into the cell opposite me by the explosion of flame.

I blacked out for a bit and when I came to Nicolas and another man had scooped me up and we were hobbling towards the exit.

“Who’s this?” I asked.

“A friend and fellow prisoner,” replied Nicolas.

“I didn’t want to trust anything the traitor said, but I couldn’t help carry you with my arm broken,” I turned to see Jason’s bloody arm hanging limp at his side, the tip of a bone protruding from his forearm.

“I am not a traitor,” Nicolas said, “I will explain everything once we get out of this place.”

Passing through the guard room I made the others stop so that I could grab Kearse’s Hunt medallion from his pocket. The golden wolf face was speckled with his blood, as I looked down at the icon, I saw a splash of water mix in with the blood. I realized it was a tear, I was crying. I shoved the medallion into my pocket and lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Next Chapter: Chapter 14