Alright, easy does it. Time to exercise some of that control Whisper is always hammering into your thick head.

Magic flooded down Rasp’s forearms and pooled in his hands until each greasy fingertip thrummed with energy. He held it, allowing its intensity to build until his core was near bursting, before releasing the pent magic with an idle flick of his fingers. On his command, a rush of water spilled over the side of the fountain behind him in a single, rolling wave.

The cries around him were more surprised than terrified, which meant his strategy was working. The water wasn’t meant as a means of destruction. It was simply the first step in a brilliant plan of escape that would hopefully harm as few people as possible, including himself.

Rasp leapt backwards onto the fountain, ensuring his feet were not touching the tide that rolled soundlessly across the open city square. Already, he could see several of the advancing figures had overcome their shock and had remembered they were supposed to be catching him. According to Father, there were four pursuers in total. Rasp could hear their footsteps splashing through ankle-deep water towards him.

Father landed on his shoulder in a dark flutter of wings, voicing his concerns regarding the validity of Rasp’s plan.

“I know they’re getting closer. Stop rushing me.”

Blocking out the raven’s unhelpful response, Rasp drew inwards once more. He pictured the energy burning within him and redirected it into his hands. Channeling his concentration, he tempered the raging fire, transforming it from hot to cold. He waited, allowing the magic to complete the change before casting it downwards with a wave of his hand. Below him, the cobblestone crackled and popped as a layer of frost spread across the surface of the water, rendering it to ice.

So far so good. Twice now he’d managed to tap into his powers without awakening the beast within. This was good. This was working.

“What in the name of chaos?” the closest officer cried.

When Rasp opened his eyes again he saw the man’s blurry form lurch to a halt, unable to move forward with his boots stuck within a sheet of ice. A quick visual sweep of the surrounding area confirmed that the shadowy outlines of the his cronies appeared to be having similar difficulties.

It was a shame Whisper wasn’t here to see his accomplishment. His mentor might have actually been proud of him for a change. Of course, in order to brag about it later, Rasp first had to ensure he actually got away.

Ignoring the impulse to jump from the fountain and attempt a swift escape, Rasp eased his way onto the ice, checking to be sure he had his footing before skidding out across the slippery square. He was making slow but steady progress when he heard the ice shatter behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that the lead officer had broken a foot free and was working on the other. Rasp attempted to pick up his speed but succeeded only losing his balance and falling over.

Father took to the air above his head. Croak!

“My stick?” Crap. In a valiant effort to control his inner rage, Rasp had gotten so caught up in the getaway, he’d mistakenly left his cane behind. “That would have been helpful to know back at the fountain!”

Father’s explanation was as petty as could be expected.

“Because you didn’t get your coin, really?” So much for his valiant effort. Rasp could feel his temper beginning to stir along with his rising panic. “I will make it up to you, I swear. Now help me figure a way out of this!”

A second shattering of ice warned that his pursuer now had both feet free. Amidst a slew of cursing, the officer’s hazy shape started to move, shuffling rather comically in his direction. Rasp pulled to his knees and scrambled away on all fours, wincing as his bare skin tried to fuse with the passing ice. He continued despite the pain, focused on making sense of whatever nonsense Father was croaking up a storm about.

“Just like ice skating?” he repeated. It was official. The damn bird was out of his pea-sized mind. “I never learned how to ice skate. You said it was for pansies!”

Father continued to shout unhelpful advice at him from above.

Despite his best efforts, he wasn’t getting anywhere very quickly on all fours. Additionally, two more pursuers had broken free from the ice and were now in slow pursuit. Whispering a silent prayer to whatever deity might be listening, Rasp rose shakily onto his feet, keeping his hands out in front of him in case he toppled over again. “Alright! We’ll do it your way. Tell me what to do.”

The large raven landed onto the ice several paces ahead of him, squawking instructions as he hopped and skipped along the path he wished for Rasp to take.

“I don’t have time to put my socks over my shoes. Jump to the next step!”

Rasp listened to Father’s instructions, feeling the icy grip of panic spread throughout his body. No time to think, just do. Filling his lungs with what was surely to be his last breath, Rasp bent forward and repositioned his center of gravity until it was over his feet. With one boot firmly planted, he pushed off with the other. To his absolute shock, he slid smoothly across the ice without falling. Excitement bubbled in his chest as he repeated Father’s instructions a second time, both amazed and utterly delighted to find the results were the same as the first.

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“Dad, look, look! I’m doing it!”

Rasp heard the ice crunch behind him as one of his pissed off pursuers started to gain on him.

Croak!

‘Don’t think, just do’ rang through his head once more. Per Father’s instructions, Rasp pushed off once more, this time pivoting with his stationary foot in order to change direction. The motion threw his body spinning sideways, barely escaping the dark shape that leapt at him from behind. Rasp bent his knees to regain his balance until he slid to a successful stop. This time, when a second hazy form slip-slided towards him, he was ready.

Rasp pivoted out of their grasp with relative ease. Emboldened by his newfound skill, he pressed forward, alternating feet as he built speed. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the blurry shadows of his pursuers were so far in the distance they were now indistinguishable from the background. Rasp kept moving, certain at any moment, he would reach the edge of the ice flow and fall flat on his face, but the end never came. The ice stretched on even after he reached the towering buildings and slid into an adjoining side street.

The fleeing, alas, was made more difficult by the sheer volume of people who refused to get out of his way. It was only after his third collision Rasp realized it was not intentional. From the frantic shouts and crunching of ice, a fair amount of the festival-goers were trapped in place. Under Father’s watchful direction, Rasp dodged and weaved his way through the confused crowd.

He was making decent progress when an uncomfortable warmth seeped from the soles of his shoes upwards. Glancing down, he saw a faint pulsing glow illuminating the ice beneath his feet. The unfamiliar magic shot upwards, shattering the surface layer with a resounding crack! A swirling mass of broken ice and stone lifted him in the air and whipped him sideways. Rasp slammed into a nearby vendor cart, snapping the stand from its wooden wheels along with what he imagined were several, if not all, of his ribs in the process.

Waiting until the dirt and debris had finished falling from the sky over him, he lifted his head with a groan and tried to make sense of the twinkling specks of light dancing along the edge of his muddled vision. Through the shifting gloom, he saw the newest player advancing towards him.

“By the order of the Division of Divination, I hereby order you to surrender!”

One of these idiots, great. As if fleeing from a squad of city police hadn’t been bad enough, apparently his antics had drawn the attention of something far worse.

“Put your hands where–” the rest of the division member’s words were cut off by a violent gust of wind that sent her careening back down the icy cobbled street like a dried leaf caught in a tornado.

“Fucking witches,” Rasp cursed, attempting to roll to his feet but succeeding in landing face-first against the slick stone pavers. “I hate witches!”

“You are a witch,” an unfamiliar voice said from somewhere alongside him.

“Don’t remind me,” he said. “Figures you were watching along the sidelines this whole time, being unhelpful as usual. Were you planning to step in at all or just watch me crash and burn?”

“I did step in.”

“A little on the late side, don’t you think?”

“I would not have had to step in had you stayed with the bags as instructed.” A hand reached down and grasped his wrist. From the lack of concern in the stranger’s voice, Rasp knew this wasn’t a stranger at all, but one of his mentor’s many mortal disguises. Traveling in their true form, after all, would have simply caused more problems–primarily the kind involving pitchfork wielding mobs.

“Now, if you’re done making a spectacle of yourself, I suggest we make a quick exit. Where there is one member of the division, there are many.” Whisper did not pull Rasp to his feet. Their hand on his wrist was simply to remind him that if he didn’t make the effort himself, the fae would overcompensate with their magic.

“You should be thankful it was as little of a spectacle as it was.“ Rasp stood and hooked his arm through Whisper’s, starting off at an awkward limp as he attempted to match their stride. “Believe me, I could have made that way more spectacular.”

Whisper pulled Rasp behind a random building and out the other end into a dark and narrow alleyway. Dark and stinking of garbage, the street was thankfully free of ice, making passage much faster. “They’ll have eyes on the main gate by now. We’ll have to find another way through.”

Rasp found himself wondering if this other way through would involve obliterating a portion of the city wall. Not that he was opposed to it, of course, but such methods did seem to be in direct conflict with their agreed ‘try to be subtle, dammit’ way of doing things.

“We are not blowing a hole in anything.”

“Stop reading my thoughts!”

“Stop thinking stupid thoughts and I won’t have to read them to tell you they’re stupid,” Whisper replied as the fae increased their pace from a fast shuffle to a clumsy run.

“You know, I’m starting to think most mentors don’t spend half their time calling their apprentices stupid.” Rasp tightened his grip on Whisper’s arm as he struggled to keep pace. With the absence of the lanterns, he was unable to make out anything more than vague passing shadows.

“Correct. What does that say about you, little bird?”

“Stop turning this around on me! Did you see what I did at the fountain? Problem solving without overreacting. I dipped into my magic without stirring the darkness. You’re welcome.”

“Yes, yes,” Whisper grumbled as they veered to the side, tugging Rasp around a corner he hadn’t seen coming. “The performance was exemplary. Your reluctance to set anything on fire was particularly commendable. Well done.”

Rasp was continually impressed by his mentor’s ability to turn even the most benign of compliments into an insult. He opened his mouth, prepared to volley a barrage of venom-laced insults when a sudden hiss from Whisper cut him short.

Rasp fell silent not so much out of a willingness to obey, but because he was already short of breath and shouting while running was only exacerbating the steady fire burning within his lungs. Over the rasping pant of his own breath, he heard the echo of fast footsteps starting to close in behind them.