The dungeon’s side passage wasn’t only smaller, it was lit by fewer brackets of glowing stones. In the dim light, Caleb stumbled on the uneven, rough-hewn floor. Donal, walking next to him, did the same a moment later.

All of a sudden, a bright glow came from over the two men’s shoulders.

“Praise be to Lir,” Donal gasped. “What can’t you do, Miss Morningstar?”

Caleb turned to see Tavia trotting close behind them. Her horn shone with a sparkling silver-gold phosphorescence. It made him think of the swirling glitter inside a snow globe.

The light radiated out, illuminating in all directions. Now he could see Sienna and a few other villagers lagging a few paces behind Tavia, each holding a flintlock or sword. The main body of the escapees followed still further behind.

Caleb’s mind went back to what he’d seen on Tavia Morningstar’s character sheet. Of course. Unicorn-Specific Specialties: Light Spells.

“That’s useful,” he said. “But it’s a double-edged kind of useful, Tavia.”

The unicorn blinked at that. “What do you mean? You both almost fell a little while ago.”

“True, and your light helps prevent that. But it’s also going to tell anyone up ahead who’s coming, how many they are, and that they’ve got a magical creature with them. I’d prefer to keep you and Shaw as ‘trump cards’, only playing you when necessary.”

Her long equine jaw moved as she appeared to chew that over. “You speak from a place of wisdom. Caleb. I shall douse my light.”

“Bide a moment before you do!” Donal said. “Up ahead, there’s another of those light-stone holders. I’ll get it.”

“All right.”

Donal went over to the wall and stood on his tip-toes. With a grunt, he took it down and brought it over. A couple of smooth, egg-sized stones glowed softly from inside the bracket’s half-moon shaped container.

He took one out and held it aloft. It was a softer, dimmer light than what came from Tavia’s horn, but it illuminated the way ahead just enough.

“That’ll do fine,” Caleb said.

The unicorn doused her light and they went on. The group kept quiet, save for the soft sound of footfalls and the occasional murmur of speed. Shortly after they passed the tightest spot in the passage, Caleb heard the scrape of talons against rock, followed by a litany of half-whispered curses. His skin crawled at the sound.

Tavia’s ears flicked backwards as she listened in. She let out a muffled snort which Caleb suspected was a laugh.

“That was our friend Shaw,” she explained. “He just lost a couple feathers wiggling his way through the choke point.”

Suddenly, a new scent wafted through the air. Donal inhaled sharply and murmured a prayer of thanks to Lir. Even Tavia raised her head to take it in.

The salt-tinged smell of the sea.

An excited murmur ran through the crowd behind them, followed on its heels by a chorus of shushes. Caleb held up a hand, halting the group. He chewed over what to do next for a moment.

“Everyone, wait here. Donal, Tavia and I are going up ahead. Tavia, can you do a light spell at a moment’s notice? I need an effect like a flash bulb.”

“I can perform light magic almost instantly,” she replied. “Though I must profess, I have no idea what a ‘flash bulb’ might be.”

Idiot, Caleb chided himself. Of course a unicorn wouldn't have used a camera before.

“I mean, can you make a flash like…well, a lightning strike.”

“Oh, that’s what you meant. Yes, I can do that.”

“Wait for my signal to let fly. Donal, be sure to close your eyes when I give it, or you’ll be blinded as well.”

“Yezzir,” he agreed. “I can do that.”

The three continued on up the passageway. The scent of fresh air tinged with salt grew stronger. Caleb spotted a flicker of red from up ahead, as well as the sound of footfalls.

He thought back to Lir and Danu’s latest advice: The Myrkur value immediate obedience and submission to authority over critical thinking.

“Donal, douse our light,” he said. “Tavia, hang a couple of steps further back. I have an idea.”

The unicorn did so as Donal tucked the glowing stone under his shirt. The flicker of red grew brighter as it grew closer. It finally resolved into a torch carried by the taller of a pair of slovenly looking Guardsmen.

As he’d suspected, the Myrkur wouldn’t have put their best on guard duty outside a supply tunnel. Caleb took a breath. Then he straightened his uniform, stepped forward, and launched into his bluff.

“Hold it right there!” he demanded. “Komtur Draymon’s got word that someone’s slacking at this post. And he’s sent us up here to find out who’s to blame!”

“The…the Komtur?” the shorter guard said, with a gulp. “We’ve not been slacking, no sir!”

“Then how come the two of you reek of pipeweed, eh?”

“I only smoke on my day off!” the taller guard protested. “I swear it on Myr’s head, I do!”

Caleb raised his voice to a gruff shout.

“That’s enough out of you! By Myr’s head, I trust my nose more than the likes of you. And snuff out that torch! How do you expect to see anything when you’re ruining your night vision like that?”

“Yezzir, right away!” The man quickly did as told.

But the shorter one had started rubbing his chin. He pointed over Caleb’s shoulder.

“Hey, what’s that?” he asked. “We thought we heard the sound of hooves on stone, figured that maybe a coney deer had gotten lost down here. We could use some meat for the pot.”

“Coney deer?” Caleb scoffed. “We’ve brought up a mule with us. Draymon’s got ‘em hauling rocks. They’re expanding the main hallway down by where we keep the Beast.”

To help sell the story, Tavia let out a whinny that ended in a hee-haw!

“You really do have a mule with you!” The taller guard tried peering into the darkness. His friend did likewise. “That’s a new one, we got no word…”

“Tavia,” Caleb said, as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Now!”

A soft paf! sounded as a retina-frying flash went off. Caleb opened his eyes to see the two guards reeling back, their hands reflexively going to their eyes. He drew his cutlass, raised his arm, and brought the heavy pommel of the sword down on the shorter guard’s head. The man fell with a groan.

The taller guard dropped his torch. He stumbled backwards and fell over. Caleb’s blade was at his throat in an instant.

“Speak a single word and you’re dead,” he said flatly. “Nod if you understand.”

The man did, with difficulty. Tears streamed from his eyes.

“Raise your fingers to tell me how many more guards are up ahead.”

Instead of a raised finger, he got a shake of the head.

“No more? You and your friend were it?”

That got a nod.

Caleb relaxed slightly. Sienna’s information had been correct.

“Donal, disarm these two.”

“Yezzir, of course,” Donal said, as he stumbled forward. “I’m sorry. I didn’t blink in time, so my vision’s still a wee bit blotchy.”

“It happens. Get their uniforms, too. They’ll come in handy if we need to bluff anyone else.”

He took his sword from the guard’s throat and slid it back into his scabbard once the man had been disarmed, stripped, bound, and gagged.

Donal held up a bundle including a pair of swords, uniforms, and pistols.

“Shall I call up everyone else and get these distributed?” he asked.

“Sounds good,” Caleb said. “Tavia and I are going to scout ahead. Keep bringing everyone up. And see if you can get Shaw back up front, we might need him.”

Tavia tapped forehoof on the floor in thought. “I believe we can risk a little more light now.”

“Yeah,” Caleb agreed. “I think it’s worth the risk.”

He picked up the torch that he’d had the guard snuff out, wondering how he was going to light it. The unicorn shook her head. Tavia raised her head high, and her horn winked on again. This time it illuminated where the passage widened out into a large cavern. They moved through the space until a new sound reached their ears.

The not-too-distant pounding of surf.

“Up ahead,” Tavia said. “Look!”

She and Caleb ran towards the faint glow up ahead. The unicorn allowed her horn’s glow to fade out as she reached the spot first. She let out a pleased whinny as she inhaled a breath of fresh air.

Caleb arrived a few moments later. A raggedly chiseled entryway had been made in the rock. Triple-colored moonlight shone through the opening.

Together, they walked through onto a wide, flat clearing. He inhaled, taking in big gulps of air. After the dull, staid atmosphere of the dungeon, the stiff breeze felt intoxicating.

They’d emerged at a much higher point than Caleb had anticipated. The opening they’d come from was a ragged slash in a near-vertical cliff face. It ran up to a rocky summit.

But the view ahead spread out before them in a panorama of bright lights and dark ocean.

It only took him a couple seconds to gain his bearings. Before, when he’d made his way to The Quiet Sailor, he’d arrived from the south. The sea had been to his left, while Deephold Port’s main boulevard had run through the center of town and up to the fortress protecting the Keep below.

Now, he and Tavia looked down at the town from roughly the north-west. The sheer face of the cliffside soared more than a hundred feet higher, which kept them out of sight of the watchers on the Keep’s palisade. Deephold Port sprawled out ahead and to his left.

The town’s lanterns were fully lit now, dotting the streets with buttery yellow circles of light. He also spotted more movement on the streets. Revelers dressed in dark uniforms who called out to the passing patrols of similarly clad Guardsmen. Snatches of music and cheering came from buildings similar to the tavern he’d visited before.

To the right, the sea spread out in a vast field of blue-black. It broke into glittering white foam where it rolled up against the rocky shore. And directly ahead lay the most beautiful sight of all. When he’d first seen the town, he’d spotted the silhouettes of large, sleek sailing ships just around the curve of the island.

Now those same ships lay out before him. An assortment of types from single to multiple-masted ships had been brought into a wide, sheltered cove. The vessels varied in their state of repair. The bright moonlight revealed torn, ragged sails on a couple, while still others had been grounded broadside onto the steep beach for repairs or cleaning their hulls.

Yet more ships floated at the ends of long wooden piers. In each case, their sails had been furled but the vessels looked more-or-less ready for service. He thought he made out a quartet of Guardsmen moving along the sprawling waterfront, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Sounds like the Lord High Captain and the Seeress are throwing a party,” Tavia remarked. “I shudder to think what occasion they might be celebrating.”

Caleb considered. “I’m thinking that they’ve just brought a squadron of their fleet in for repairs and maintenance. That would explain why there’s so many ships being careened on the beach.”

She frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”

“That’s when they bring the ships up on the beach and lay them on one side. So they can maintain the hull, scrape it clean, that sort of thing.” Caleb rubbed his chin a moment. “This might be some lucky timing on our part. All the sailors are in town, carousing, drinking, abusing the local citizenry. Standard stuff.”

“How is that lucky for us?”

“No one’s going to be on board any of those ships. Depending on how many guards there are, we should be able to steal one and get out of here.”

“That would be an ideal situation, Caleb. But…”

“Yeah?”

“With all those sailors ashore, won’t that mean they have plenty of people to crew the other ships and catch us?”

Caleb thought back to the warning that had shown up in his Quest Window.

Veteran Adventurer’s-Level Quest: Attempt to escape Irongrasp Island aboard a sailing ship. WARNING! Completion of quest shall trigger an additional Veteran Adventurer’s-Level Quest: Attempt to escape a squadron of the Myrkur’s Naval Arm, the Sea Vipers.

“You’ve got a point,” he acknowledged, “but that’s one of those ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we get there’ kind of problems. First thing’s first. We need one of those ships.”

The unicorn jabbed her horn in the direction ahead. “Then we’re going to have to go through Deephold Port itself.”

Caleb opened his mouth to object. But then he looked towards where Tavia had indicated. He bit back a choice curse.

A switchback zig-zagged down the steep, rocky slope before them. It broadened out at the base of the slope before merging with one of the brightly lit streets of Deephold Port. He frowned as he saw how they’d have to cross a bustling corner before turning right on the path towards the piers.

I’ve got thirty or forty people with me, he thought despairingly. And only a handful can put up anything like a real fight. How am I going to get an entire crowd through that without attracting the attention of every squad of Guardsmen down there?