Inside the dingy motel room, Ian sat pensively at the foot of the bed. Vale pulled off her bow and placed it on the dresser. She leaned against it while Mal laid down between them. Ban stood near the doorway surveying the room with obvious distaste before stepping inside. He focused on Ian, silently prompting him to explain his earlier statement.

Ian glanced at Vale and she shrugged in acquiescence, “We need to trust someone. He is part of the Order of Brass, he knows the city, and he is appropriately cautious of the Court.”

Ian trusted her judgment. Less than thrilled, he succinctly described the circumstances that brought him here. Again. The warehouse fight, the golem, waking up in a strange cave, meeting Vale and Mal. He left out Anders because he simply couldn’t go through that again. Skipping ahead, he talked about the journey through the Ironwoods to Landorei at the Ranger’s behest. The uneasy recounting of their introduction to Dakon DeBarro this morning filled the last major gap before the subsequent attack on their decoy hotel room. How or why they had information on the Harlequin Court Ian decided not to share.

Ban listened to the story without comment. Only glancing at Vale for confirmation when Ian’s story began to sound like ridiculous fantasy. Which, mainly, was when Ian started his tale in D.C. on a place called Earth. She shrugged each time, leaving the minotaur to draw his own conclusions.

To prove his tale Ian pulled out exhibits A and B; his gun and phone. He powered on his phone and played a song, AC/DC’s Thunderstruck. Everyone in the room expressed their version of shock, giant wolves included, to the noise. Ian noted he still had a decent charge, and since it was of little use to him without any signal he went ahead and took a selfie with a visibly confused Vale. Then showed it to them, demonstrating it was more than a pretty light-box that made noise. Then he powered it back off, explaining that it could only be on for so long before it needed a recharge.

He didn’t demonstrate how the gun worked but explained that it was a common weapon in his world and gave a warning to avoid the dangerous end. He also ejected the magazine and pushed out a bullet to show them. And as a last bit of proof, he pulled out his detective shield, which included a photo ID below it.

“Well, that is quite the tale,” Ban said, breaking his pensive silence. “So, you’re not crusading for justice, or even trying to fight. You just want to go home?”

Ian noted that the minotaur sounded almost disappointed.

“Your apparent fearlessness in walking brazenly into the law firm could also be construed as foolishness,” Ban continued, “though that doesn’t explain why they attacked your hotel room, at least not entirely. The Court is dangerous, but they can’t know you are poking into their affairs… can they? And what’s more, there is still no direct connection to the Partners, the leaders of Justiciar Law, and the Court,” Ban began pacing now as he continued his musings. “Of course! The intercepted message. It must apply to Ian, it’s too much of a coincidence.”

“You must understand,” Ban said, ceasing his pacing and facing Vale, “I have received information about a plan that the Court is very near to enacting. They mention a traveler from another realm, which must mean Ian. And these plans are for a worldwide catastrophe, and I do not doubt their veracity.”

Ian felt a tingle on the back of his neck, drawing his attention away from Ban and towards the bay window. Out in the middle of the street, he saw a crimson-robed figure reading from a scroll. The scroll emanated a soft glow like a flickering candle, lighting up the reader like a Christmas caroler.

What is he…?

Orange light bloomed, and time stood still for Ian.

He recalled a physics project he’d done in college. The resulting term paper detailed the energy required to create the very object currently hurtling towards him. One-fifth of a megaton. His professor had failed him because the experiment was pure fantasy and in no way verifiable. No one would ever see a real fireball cast by an actual wizard. Proving his professor wrong may have given him a sense of triumph on any other day, but today he was busy trying not to die.

“DOWN!” Ian roared as time resumed. He rolled over the far side of the bed, landing hard on the shag carpeting.

No one took time to look in his direction nor ask a stupid question. They moved. Ban was near the bathroom and he dove inside. He slid across the wood floor and crashed against the tub, cracking the cheap stone with a heavy thud. Vale dove over Ian, and the bed, landing behind it. She felt Mal’s head press down on her back as the deafening explosion hit.

The bay window and the entire front wall burst into a shrapnel-laced cloud of dust. Chunks of flaming wall and debris flew about as the wall exploded. Huge spears of wall and glass slammed into the back of the room, the dresser, and the bed. The entire motel rocked with the force of the impact threatening to collapse at any moment.

Once the explosion passed Ian jerked up to assess the fallout. He’d caught a glimpse of the fireball before he dove behind the bed. Even knowing that it had been massive he never expected this level of damage. The front of their room and several others was a flaming ruin. Fire spread from one room to the next and already he could see the way down being cut off by the flames. And the ringing in his ears made everything muffled and fuzzy.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Everyone alright!?” Ian shouted to be heard over the ringing in his ears. He didn’t hear their responses, if there were any, everything sounded muffled and fuzzy.

Through the fiery hole that had been their door, Ian saw the robed figure already conjuring another fireball.

“We need to move!” Ian commanded.

The mattress laid near him and it was the last place he’d seen Vale. Ian flipped it over to reveal Vale and Mal underneath. Vale was still in one piece, but a dagger sized splinter of wood lodged itself deep in the flesh of Mal’s flank. Ian quickly roused Vale from her dazed state.

At the same time, the bathroom door splinted and cracked against a wall. Ban emerged unscathed, his hammer in his hands. His eyes narrowed as he looked out onto the street.

“They were watching me. Frak!” Ban cursed.

The past couple of days had left Ian in a numbed state of acceptance. He had given up on the notion that he held any control. But as the fire grew in the wizard’s fists below Ian decided at that moment he’d had enough. He drew his gun from its holster and stretched his arms out in front of him, taking aim. The man on the street didn’t react to Ian’s gun and it gave him a substantial advantage. Three shots exploded out from the barrel in quick succession, all aimed for center mass.

The fire encircling the man's hands sputtered and went out. He fell in a heap on the street, a pool of crimson forming beneath his already limp body. The hood fell back to reveal a human man with a look of disbelief etched forever into his vacant eyes.

Ban stared at Ian in awe for several seconds before he was able to shake himself into action. He had so many questions about the strangely crafted weapon that had ended the battle so decisively, but this was not the time.

The fire had begun spreading through the room and eating its way up the walls towards the ceiling. Ian grabbed the mattress once again and with Ban’s help heaved it over the flaming exit.

“Let’s go!” Ian yelled.

Ban was already climbing outside, kicking aside flaming rubble as he went.

Vale was visibly shaken, but not by the blast. She had her hands on Mal’s flank trying to figure out how to get him out when he couldn’t walk.

Ian dashed straight towards Mal and scooped him up before anyone could argue. Mal had to weigh a hundred pounds and substantial change, but Ian either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins to lighten the load; the sore back would be Tomorrow-Ian’s problem. He rushed down the steps at the end of the row of room and out to the front of the motel.

Vale snatched up her mildly smoking backpack and vaulted over the mattress and out of the room. She gave the corpse of the robed man a cold hard stare, satisfaction reflected in her eyes. A piercing whine from Mal pulled her away and to the canine’s side. The hard look was gone in an instant and replaced with fear and concern.

Ban took note of the emblem on the man’s robe. An off-kilter compass, where North pointed nowhere, and a jester’s cap sat where North should’ve been. The symbol of the Harlequin Court. Rage bubbled up inside him at the emblem, at the destruction they had wrought, at the brazen display of power.

“This way,” Ban said, beckoning them away from the wreckage. They took off at a jog following Ban’s lead, but once they’d reached a safe distance from the hotel Vale called for a halt.

“Put Mal down, please,” She said softly, caressing Ian’s forearm in silent thanks.

Ian did as she asked as gently as he could, placing Mal down on a street-side bench. She knelt beside Mal and examined his injuries more closely in the light of an overhanging street lamp. It wasn’t pretty. Blood was leaking out around the jagged wooden splinter that stuck in his haunch.

Vale slapped out the remaining hot-spots on her pack and then untied the top. She searched through the pack while whispering soft words of her native Elvish to Mal. Her fingers closed around the first aid kit she always kept inside the pack. She had forgotten to restock the supplies she used with Ian at the lake but would make do with what remained.

“We’re completely exposed. We need to get off the streets, now.” Ban said, sliding his hammer back into its clasp.

“I need to help him,” Vale said, looking up at Ban with a desperate frown. She turned back to Mal and smeared a salve over his wound. Which elicited a soft whine from him. She forced a smile as she hushed him with one hand and yanked the splinter from his haunch with the other. By the time he had reacted with a pained yelp, her practiced fingers were almost through packing the wound. Quickly but gingerly she wrapped the wound in the clean cloth, and already it had the fresh flow of blood under control.

It was a tense few minutes until they were able to move again. But with two buildings on fire, they weren’t noticed. Vale finished binding Mal’s leg and offered only her strongest face and words of encouragement to him. She stood and looked at Ian with tears threatening to fall from her eyes. He had never seen her so upset.

“He’ll be alright,” Ian offered with a forced smile. Concerned though he might be, staying here put them all in danger. There would be time to worry later.

“I need to get him to a healer. He should not travel, but as Ban’Koliath said we need to get off the street,” She placed her hand on the wolf’s head, stroking the magic spot right between the ears that instantly soothed all animals. It had the added bonus of soothing Vale as well by the looks of it. The dampened damsel look in Vale’s eyes faded, replaced by a hardened look of determination.

Woe betide the enemy who crosses her path, Ian thought as he knelt to gather up Mal. Mal nipped at Ian’s hand and gingerly rose to his feet and demonstrated that he could walk, albeit with a bit of a limp.

“Alright buddy, but you let me know if you want don’t want to walk anymore. I mean you’re not heavy at all. Featherweight, really," Mal leaned into Ian almost toppling the man over, as if to tell him he understood the sarcasm.

“We go west, a few blocks away,” Ban said, jerking his chin to indicate the direction, “I know a safe place where we can get help for the wolf.” He led the way down the street and away from the growing crowd. More Fire Mages showed up to relieve the first crew and combat the new blaze.