Ihra nearly had a heart attack when she watched Jasper plunge over the edge, tangled up in a death spiral with the puḫmaḫḫu. The ground cracked beneath them, followed mere seconds after by an ear-splitting crack as the narrow bridge also succumbed to gravity. She stared down the ravine, watching as her friend and monster tumbled end over end into its depths, and the weight of it all came rushing back to her, all the pain of the ones she had lost.

Her parents. Her brother. Now Jasper.

Then she remembered his new spell and hope blazed forth. Her heart was still thumping like a steam engine as she leaned out of her saddle, watching the pair plummet to their doom, but her faith was rewarded when a shadowy set of wings erupted from Dapplegrim’s back. The beast continued on to the ground, landing in a cloud of dust and debris, but Jasper was safe. Thank Selene.

It was only then that Ihra turned her attention back to the situation at hand. Now that the ledge where the puḫmaḫḫu had been standing had crumpled, a more than twenty-foot gap from the unscathed portion of the ledge to the section of the bridge that had collapsed. We can jump that. Maybe?

She glanced around at their little group assessingly and quickly corrected herself. Keresh, the magnificent stag Aphora had gifted her, could certainly jump that far. She was also pretty sure that, on foot, Annatta and Nēs̆u could make it as well, and Tsia could probably use her wind to fly herself over, but their mounts were another question. Horses could leap a surprisingly far distance, nearly three times their own body length, but that was with a running start. That wasn’t going to be happening on a four-foot-wide ledge.

A second later, even that plan went up in smoke - or rather, dust - as what was left of the bridge collapsed under its own weight, sending several more tons of rock and stone plunging into the depths, and leaving a gulf of nearly fifty feet between them and the safety of the forest. None of them were jumping that far.

Ihra was nothing if not decisive. Abandoning all hope of escape, she promptly twisted around in her saddle where she the line of guards was quickly catching up to them. They were covered from head to toe in thick steel armor that tinged with just a hint of a pale-green shine, doubtless some sort of alloy she wasn't familiar with. Her lips quirked down in a frown; they were a less-than-ideal matchup for her, but she could make it work. As long as she chose her shots carefully and got her piercing up, she could get her arrows to punch through the armor. Slow and steady, she told herself.

With one smooth, practiced movement, Ihra unclasped her bow from the saddle and notched an arrow, sending it flying. It tore through the air like a diving hawk and found its prey just as surely - the small seam between the torso and the arms on the guard leading the front. The guard barely acknowledged the attack. His measured pace didn't even slow as he, with a grunt, ripped her arrow out and flung it over the edge of the ravine like a piece of trash.

It was far enough away that Ihra couldn’t be certain, but she was disappointed to see no sign of blood on its tip. Probably has some sort of skin-toughening perk. No matter. Another three arrows were already flying through the air, one destined for each of the first three guards. This time, she struck gold. With the sort of pin-point precision she always strived for - but didn’t always attain - the second arrow landed almost exactly in the same spot as before, tearing through the already weakened armor of the leading guard, its momentum barely slowed by the thick metal. This time when the guard yanked the projectile out, a dark red coated its edge.

With his hand clutched protectively over his injured shoulder, the guard left Ihra no clear shot at the weakened spot, but she no longer needed one. The arrows aimed at the other guards had struck true, and her piercing had hit 80. Taking careful aim, she made the next shot count. Executioner’s Arrow.

It rocketed across the quickly closing gap. It was visually no different from the arrows that had come before, but this time it was aimed straight at the thick gorget that protected his neck. Trusting in his armor to tank the blow, the guard didn’t even try to block her arrow. It was the last mistake he made.

Executioner's Arrow shredded his armor like paper, tearing through his battle-hardened skin to bury itself halfway into his throat. Abandoning all attempts to shield his injured arm, the guard stopped dead in his tracks. Both hands clasped tightly, he frantically tugged at the arrow embedded in his neck, trying to pull it free, but it was too late. With a whir of steel and a fountain of blood, the arrow’s head rapidly expanded into a giant, smoldering blade that severed his head and cauterized the wound.

For a split second, the guard’s eyes met hers. There was an incredulous look in his eyes, the look of a man who had not yet fully realized that he was dead. Then his head slid forward along the blade and toppled into the chasm below.

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But Ihra hadn’t paused in her attack. Already her next arrow was flying toward the guard behind him. It hit true, and she felt a smidge of satisfaction as her piercing inched back up, but something nagged at the back of her mind. What the hell are the others doing? No wind blades joined her attacks, no warriors rushing past - there was nothing but silence.

Unable to spare too much attention to the rest of her group, Ihra tried to angle herself to the side, so she could take a quick glance between arrows, but her leg refused to follow her directions. Something was binding it firmly against Keresh’s flanks. She cast a quick glance down, and the problem became clear.

A thin layer of stone had crept up her stag’s legs and lower belly. Part of it had even begun to creep over her leg, gliding so softly she hadn’t even felt it. Immediately, she activated the Still Pond, and her strength surged. Gritting her teeth, she yanked hard against the layer of stone, gasping as her leg burst through the rocky shell. Freeing herself from the saddle, she leapt on top of Keresh’s back, staring down sympathetically at her trapped beast. “Watch out - they got a mage,” she yelled back to the others, finally taking a glancing backward.

Her warning had come too late. The stone had progressed much higher on the other three, and Annatta and Nēs̆u’s arms were frozen to the reins of their horses. The mage had clearly noticed the danger sooner - Tsia's hands remained free, but she was frantically occupied with blasting away at the stone that imprisoned her legs. She wasn't strong enough to break free of the stone on her own, and while her wind blades were certainly capable of freeing her, doing so without maiming herself was a far more difficult process.

Crap. They’re going to be no help. Glancing down at her legs, Ihra saw the stone had already crept up again and begun to cover her feet. She leapt up in the air, breaking through the fragile restraints, and stamped down hard on the rocky shell, shattering it. Damn, I knew it was coming and I still couldn't feel it.

Her eyes swept back to the approaching guards. They had almost caught up with the group, and with the others bound, it was on her to save them. She knew now that one of the guards must be a stone mage, but she couldn't tell which one. They looked identical. Where the hell is he hiding?

Ihra allowed herself to fall into the flow, her hands working almost on automation as she fired off a steady stream of arrows toward the approaching line of guards, her eyes frantically searching for the source of the magical attack.

In theory, it should have been an easy task. Mages rarely wore heavy armor as devoting enough points in strength for them to still nimbly move around the battlefield while wearing a few hundred pounds of metal generally came at the cost of enhancing the far more valuable attributes that boosted essence, but her task was not that simple: all the guards were decked out in the same slightly-green armor.

She watched their hands too, looking for any signs of the caster. Most mages had to use their hands, and the subtle tattoos upon them, in order to release the essence. Sure, some were more subtle than others, but pretty much all at least moved their fingers. But all the guards wore heavy gauntlets that would prevent any such finger flexibility. There was simply no sign of the mage. Unless.

Ihra’s released the thought for a moment, focusing all her concentration on her next shot as she released another Executioner’s Arrow. It flew true, quickly relieving the next guard in line of his head. It was a satisfying moment, but Ihra she wasn’t going to be able to beat them that way; another ten guards were still fast approaching. She couldn't possibly get her piercing up that many times before they closed in.

Her mind turned back to the idea that occurred to her - the image of Jasper breathing fire through his mouth. True, mages almost always cast with their hands, but it was technically possible to cast from other places. What if her mage was doing just that?

Ihra abandoned her search for any telltale signs of mages. Instead, she let her eyes simply take in the group as a whole. She wasn't looking for anything in particular, just for something, anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Another arrow flew sure, and another. With a strangled cry, one more of the guards plunged into the depths, killed surprisingly not by her Executioner's Arrow but by his own clumsiness - when the Djinn tried to yank out an arrow embedded in his armor, he'd stumbled and, overcorrecting, lost his footing.

There. Her eyes sharpened as she found what she'd been looking for. The eighth guard in line looked no different from the rest, but there was something ever so subtly different about the cadence of his march. With each step he took, his left foot lingered just a touch longer than the others. Perhaps he had a minor limp or perhaps…

Chewing her lip, Ihra abandoned her other targets, focusing all of her arrows on the eighth guard. He didn’t react to the first two arrows that came his way, but the third he blocked. With a harsh stomp of his foot, a wall of stone suddenly erupted from the cliff beside him, closing him off from the rest. Her arrow bounced ineffectually off the rock, slightly lowering her piercing, but it was worth it. She had found her target. Now all she had to do was kill him which, she was forced to admit after a moment’s reflection was going to be a wee bit of a problem with the mage protected in a cocoon of stone. Aargh. I have *got* to get another rune engraved on me. She didn't regret sacrificing it on the island - they'd have died otherwise, after all, but now she was regretting not making replacing it a priority. As soon as I get back to the capital, she promised herself.

Her arrows bounced uselessly off the mage's cocoon, and then a flicker of movement in the corner of her vision caught her eyes. She whirled around, an arrow already notched and ready to fire, but she stayed her hand as a wide smile split her grin. Jasper had returned. Good. He can have the mage.