Flipping around he set his feet in the bark and whipped out his knife. Then, leaning back against the tree, he cut the rope. Suddenly the world seemed to sway as the sense of security the line had given him disappeared. He rammed the knife back into his belt and chanced a look upward. The guard was descending rapidly and was almost on top of him.

He looked out at the rope and muttered a quick prayer, then jumped. His heart seemed to leap out of his throat alongside him as he plummeted towards the forest floor. Then he felt the rope hit his outstretched fingers. His hand snapped out and caught on to the rope. It dug into his palm and burned his skin, but he didn’t let go. He jerked to a stop about halfway down. Then he heard a snap above him and with a sickening lurch he began falling again.

He landed flat on his back. Lights flashed in front of him as the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He lay there for a moment before he felt the bell from above crash into the ground next to him.

Soon his vision returned. Quail was above him, nose jammed into his face. He looked past the fuzzy rabbit snout to where there were now four more guards descending.

With a groan of effort he stumbled up to his feet and reached out to Quail’s saddle. He grabbed a cord and hauled himself up, wincing at the pain in his now burnt palm.

He steadied himself in the saddle and said,

“Quail, Fly!” This time the rabbit listened. They took off. He barely managed to hang on as Quail sprinted and leapt his way through the undergrowth and around the trees. He craned his neck around and looked behind them to see even more guards taking up the chase. One of them drew back a bow, the arrow tip starting to glow orange. “Evade!” he shouted at Quail. He gripped the saddle even tighter as Quail started to weave side to side, dashing around the bushes.

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Arrows flew around them, each one glowed at the tip and started a small fire where it landed. Quail managed to narrowly avoid being hit with his erratic movements. These Sao-Vaarie weren’t as good of archers as the bandits back home they were used to avoiding. He grinned just as the arrows started falling in front of them, lighting up the foliage before them. Quail dashed to the side to avoid one of the blazes and Aeron lost his grin when he realized what they were doing. They were lighting fires in a pattern to try and hem them in. There was now a wall of flames in front of them.

Quail hesitated for a moment before Aeron urged him on. They burst through the wall of fire, sparks flying around them and singeing Quail’s fur.

They continued speeding away and one by one the guards fell behind them. He turned around and watched as they fell back, starting to land near the fires to put them out.

“I hope they’re as good at putting those out as they are at starting them!” He said to Quail. He looked down at the panting rabbit. “Good boy Quail, you saved us back there. Now hide!” Quail slowed down for a moment and then ducked into a hollow under some tree roots, nearly hitting Aeron’s head on them in the process.

He stepped down off the saddle and quail flopped down onto the ground, breathing heavily. Aeron flopped down next to him and started rubbing the rabbit’s head with his injured palm. Pain shot up his own back into his skull. That stunt was going to cost him a thumper of a headache. Not to mention the burnt hand.

“At least we got the journal, huh boy?” He looked around at the roots above them. They should be safe there for now, but they would need to get going soon before the Sao-Vaarie organized search parties. He pressed his head into Quail’s fur and stroked him. “We got the last piece of the puzzle. I think we earned a rest for a minute.”