Three turns of Alhma’s clock later, Natasha and Gabriel were standing in an alleyway across from the barracks, waiting patiently for Vish to coax his cricket out of a small box. Gabriel tried, and failed, to ignore that particular euphemism.

“Come on, Rodney, don’t be shy. You’re going for a little walk,” Vish cooed.

Gabriel lent over Vish’s shoulder and frowned, “That’s not Rodney.”

“Of course it’s Rodney,” Vish said.

“Rodney was green! This cricket is very clearly brown,” Gabriel pointed out.

Vish fixed Gabriel with a sardonic look, “What do you think the life expectancy of a cricket is, genius? Different body, same cricket,” Vish clarified.

Gabriel digested this, “How many crickets have you had?”

“I don’t know, twenty? Thirty?” Vish responded disinterestedly.

“And they’ve all had the same soul? You have an immortal cricket?” Gabriel felt oddly disgusted by the notion.

“They’re very hard to train,” Vish said by way of an answer.

“Okay, gents, enough of the cricket ancestry,” Natasha interrupted, “Are we good to go?”

Vish made no reply but he rose and placed his fingers on Natasha’s temples. The redhead’s eyes rolled back and she dropped to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

“For Aether’s sake, you could have let her sit down first!” Gabriel complained as he tried to arrange Natasha’s limbs into a vaguely humanoid shape.

“Whatever, just hurry up. It’s getting cold,” Vish grumbled.

Gabriel muttered a few choice words at Vish as he scooped up Rodney, now endowed with Natasha’s soul, and shuffled to the mouth of the alley where Brenna and Bryce were waiting.

“We good to go?” Bryce asked in his dry rasp, checking that his axe was still securely fastened to his back. He wiped sweat from his bald head. He always seemed to be sweating.

Gabriel took in a deep breath, “We’re ready,” he turned towards Brenna, “Keep Vish from wandering off, please.”

Brenna held Gabriel’s hand reassuringly, “I’ll take care of them both. Now, off you go.”

Brenna was tough as old boots. She had ropey muscles, close cropped hair, and a countenance that screamed no-nonsense. She was a farm girl at heart, and had developed her physique animal rearing. If she could wrestle with cows and pigs then the wiry mind-mapper shouldn’t cause her too many problems.

They had spent some time before the infiltration verifying their information, and waiting for the guards’ shifts to approach their end. Natasha reasoned that the soldiers would be least alert when the promise of home or whoring was on the horizon.

The team of mercenaries picked their moment and made their move.

When the external patrol rounded the corner, Gabriel forced one foot in front of the other and led Bryce to the point on the wall he had identified earlier. He calmed himself as best he could, and then looked to Figo for the signal. Figo was watching their progress from the apartment Gabriel had spent the last two days tucked away in. From his vantage point he could see the north-western tower and the courtyard around the main building. Figo tapped his chin with his knuckle, signaling the all clear.

Bryce boosted Gabriel onto the wall and then hoisted himself up effortlessly. The big man was spry, and Gabriel suspected he had a history of breaking and entering that predated their little expedition. The two seldom spoke, and had next to nothing in common, but Gabriel was glad for the company now, and decided he could ask for a worse companion.

Gabriel peered into the courtyard below. It looked empty. His theory about the latrines proved entirely correct; the smell was enough to make his toes curl. It smelt like a mix between a gym and an abattoir. He could tell why the patrols gave the place a wide berth.

Gabriel and Bryce dropped behind the wooden stool-stalls and crouched in the shadows. They waited there silently whilst the internal patrol passed by. The soldiers outside the complex had a grim and professional manner, whilst the men patrolling the grounds within jostled and joked with one another as they wandered, rather than marched, a loose circuit around the place. Gabriel surmised that they were not accustomed to uninvited company.

When the last of the Hamlin soldiers had turned the Northern corner, the moss green of his tunic fluttering out of site, Gabriel placed Rodney, piloted by Natasha, on the ground. Natasha took a few experimental hops around on the packed earth and then set out for the main building. That was where they would find the sword, and finally break into the mercenary business proper.

Natasha advanced around the outhouses, where she was very nearly swatted out of the air by a stall door swinging open on its hinges. Gabriel, Bryce, and their small cricket companion, froze in shock as a large soldier exited the outhouse, still adjusting his belt around his green tunic. The aroma of his labours followed him.

The bearded man tucked and yanked at his clothing, and then commenced a series of stretches, like an athlete readying for a sprint. He spotted Gabriel as he was pressing his heel to his backside, working the tension out of his thighs. He very nearly slammed his foot down on Natasha when he steadied himself.

Gabriel’s heart caught in his throat as he watched the brown cricket dive for cover.

The guard blinked, “Who the fuck are you?”

Gabriel’s heart was racing, and his hands were beginning to tremble. Still, he had to ask…

“How long have you been in there?”

The guard rubbed at his nose, “Not as long as all that.”

“I was personally watching this place for a clean turn of the clock, and I didn’t see anyone come and go. Were you napping, for Aether’s sake?”

The soldier looked affronted, “No! Lunch disagreed with me.”

Gabriel noted that it was well past sunset at this point.

“How many lunches did you have?” Gabriel felt his mouth run, but was painfully inept at catching it.

“The healer said it’s perfectly natural and nothing to be ashamed of!”

Gabriel and the soldier shared an awkward few looks before the guard squinted his eyes and puffed out his chest, “Wait a minute, you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Ah, yes, about that…”

Fortunately, the mercenaries did not have to rely on Gabriel’s lightning response time, as Bryce stepped around his cowering comrade and batted the guard with the flat of his axe. The impact made a sickening, wet crunch, and the soldier collapsed in on himself.

Bryce didn’t bother reprimanding Gabriel, he just shook his head and scooped the guard’s body back inside the outhouse. Gabriel looked down to see Natasha making an admirable attempt at shaking her little cricket head, too.

“Yes, I know, I talk too much when I’m nervous,” Gabriel grumbled.

“You talk too much,” Bryce corrected, as he brushed passed Gabriel and replaced him at the head of the pack.

A quick scan revealed that their position had not yet been compromised, but they had lost time. They decided to press on.

Across the way they could see a door that had been left ajar. It might be a way in, or it might be a storage cupboard for all they know. Rather than risk too much time in the open, they sent Natasha to investigate. If the path were clear, she would hop twice. If it were guarded, she would hop once. She would return if the door turned out to be a dud.

Gabriel and Bryce slunk in the shadows as Natasha started to spring her way across the courtyard. She bounced rapidly across the earth, her little brown body glinting in the moonlight as she danced gracefully to the backdrop of the evening sky.

It was actually quite a beautiful sight, Gabriel found himself thinking. The way the cricket’s carapace shimmered and dulled, it looked like a blinking star. It really was very appealing to watch.

It must have been twice as appealing to the crow who nimbly swooped down from his perch and plucked the cricket from the air at the apex of its arc.

“Natasha!” Gabriel screamed.

Bryce grabbed Gabriel by the shoulder and pressed a finger to his lips in caution.

Gabriel barely saw the man, but an independent observer would describe Bryce’s expression as conveying, “Are you fucking mad?” Gabriel twisted free of Bryce’s steely grip and searched the courtyard for the crow. Its inky plumage lent itself to stealth, and the courtyard was riddled with shadows.

After painfully long seconds, Gabriel spotted the corvid tucked beneath the looming Northern wall of the courtyard. The bird had dropped Natasha/Rodney and was pecking at the insect lazily. Natasha was being tipped and tumbled across the ground, and couldn’t find her footing long enough to make a leap for freedom.

Gabriel wasted no time charging after the avian menace. He raced towards the bird with his arms flapping, shouting and shooing to scare the bird away.

Unfortunately, the bird wasn’t nearly as interested in Gabriel’s theatrics as the barrack’s patrol was.

The patrol had doubled back when they heard a suspicious cry of “Nadasha”, or something like that, and were rounding the corner once more, at roughly the same time a young man was charging full pelt towards the wall in front of them, flailing his arms as if he were on fire. The flaming man, sans flame, caught sight of them, and ground to a halt. They stared at one another, and then the patrolmen levelled their spears.

Gabriel regarded the prickle of spearmen readying their weapons and responded with a small, “Eep”.

The crow, startled by the high pitched exclamation in a way he apparently hadn’t been by any of the shouts or screams which had preceded it, tucked the cricket in its beak and flew to the top of the Western wall, where it took a moment to cock its head at the brewing chaos in the courtyard below.

With a quick look from small army of soldiers to kidnapping crow, Gabriel made the informed decision to leg it. With the patrolmen in pursuit, Gabriel sprinted back towards the outhouses.

Bryce caught the first of the patrolmen as he came around the corner. He had followed Gabriel and tucked up against the main building in ambush. Bryce cut deep into the guard’s shoulder with an overhead blow, and struck him once more as he fell to his knees. The others responded quicker than he had bargained for, though. They fanned out in a semi-circle and hemmed Bryce in. Another guard fell when Bryce reeled him in by tugging at his spear. He pulled the soldier within range of his axe and ended him quickly. Still, it was four against one, and the element of surprise was no longer with him.

“Gabriel, get over here and fight!”

An arrow came painfully close to striking Bryce’s trunk, but instead splintered on the wall to his right. A pair of soldiers in the tower had thrown open the shutters and were tracking him with short bows. He used what little room he could to evade and maneuver, but the spearmen were closing in with determination.

“Gabriel, help!” Bryce called to his comrade.

Gabriel half-turned, but his body was still moving towards the outhouses. He watched just long enough to see Bryce’s expression melt from solid resolve to pained betrayal. Gabriel tried to muster an apology, but his tongue failed to form the words. He turned back around, and continued running.

Bryce watched Gabriel’s back as he fled, his hair trailing behind him like smoke. He did not have long to mourn this treachery though. A second arrow struck his thigh, piercing deep, and the blade of a spear flashed across his chest, painting his jerkin red. Bryce stumbled back against the wall as the enemy closed in on him.

Gabriel pushed all other thoughts from his mind and focused on the one thing that mattered: he had to get to Natasha. He braced his foot against the back wall of one of the outhouses and used the narrow space between the flimsy structure and the courtyard’s outer wall to clamber up the rampart. He made the top with relative ease, and was immediately face-to-face with his new nemesis, still holding Natasha in his beak. Slowly this time, Gabriel advanced towards the animal, arms outstretched as if to catch it in a hug.

The crow briefly studied Gabriel with glassy black eyes, and quickly decided that it had better things to do. With a flutter of wings, the crow descended to the street below, his prize still firmly nestled in his beak.

Tears of frustration were threatening Gabriel, but he refused to surrender to despair just yet. As quickly as he dared, Gabriel lowered himself into the street after his feathered friend. When he hit the cobblestones he spotted Vish and Brenna staring quizzically at him from the mouth of the alley across the way.

“The bird! Get the bird! It has Natasha!” Gabriel said, pointing, “Stop that bloody crow!”

Brenna and Vish slowly put the pieces together.

“Rodney!” Vish shouted.

The three of them pressed towards the crow, who hopped away from his pursuers urgently.

“Stop that thrice-cursed bird!” Gabriel reiterated.

“Where’s Bryce?” Brenna asked.

She received no answer.

The mercenaries attempted to herd the crow against the wall, but it was constantly one hop ahead of them.

Finally, demonstrating some avian intelligence, the bird seemed to figure out that its stalkers were after his dinner. The bird dropped the cricket on the ground to a chorus of relieved sighs. The predators seemed to relax. They were still advancing, but less aggressively.

Gabriel was overjoyed to see the cricket fall from the bird’s mouth. The poor insect looked mangled, but it twitched with life. Natasha was going to be okay.

The relief Gabriel had felt lasted mere seconds. The crow, not content to give up on its prey so easily, took the cricket in its beak one last time, and swallowed.

“Natasha,” Gabriel whispered.

The bird looked at his open-mouthed assailants smugly. However, it was only able to enjoy its victory very briefly, as an arrow flew from a window above, and pierced it through the gullet. The shaft penetrated the animal’s esophagus, and, with it, the delicious insectoid morsel it had just guzzled like the last hors d’oeuvre at the party.

Horrified, Gabriel swung to see Figo leaning from the open window of the apartment he had been stationed in. The archer was looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Figo had seen the three of them advancing on this bird, had heard Gabriel call for them to stop it, and had done his best to aid his teammates.

It had been one of Figo’s best shots, and he was ecstatic. His feeling of elation soon evaporated though, as, in a pained voice, Gabriel called up to him.

“What have you done?” Gabriel said.

Figo was left confused and disappointed. He did not get an opportunity to explain himself. Gabriel was already at the bird’s side, cradling it protectively in his arms.

Gabriel didn’t have time to mourn: he bundled the satayed crow in his arms and disappeared into the alley with Brenna and Vish in tow. Gabriel took the skewered bird to his sister and placed it carefully next to her lifeless body. He looked around for what he needed next.

“Vish! Put her back, now!” Gabriel instructed.

“Gabriel…” Vish responded slowly.

“It’s still moving,” indicating the spasming fowl, “There’s still a chance. Put her back,” Gabriel shouted.

“I can’t just-” the mind-mapper started to say.

Gabriel rose to his feet and grabbed Vish by the front of his robe.

“I don’t want to hear it, Vish. Put my sister back in her body right now, or, by the Aether, I will, I will…” Gabriel didn’t finish his threat. Instead, tears streamed down his cheeks and his lower lip quivered.

With a sigh, Vish removed Gabriel’s hand from his robe, and knelt down between Natasha’s body and the crow. He held the bird by the throat, his fingers pinching either side of the arrow’s shaft, and concentrated.

It took time – a good deal longer than usual – but after a painful period of waiting, Natasha’s body convulsed, and she drew oxygen into her lungs.

Gabriel barged past Vish and hugged his sister.

“Natasha? Natasha, are you alright?” Gabriel asked.

There was no response.

“Talk to me, Natasha. Please, please, say something!

She searched his face for a moment, seeming to recall him.

“Gabby?” she finally said.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes! I’ve never been so happy to hear that ridiculous nickname, Gabriel said, between sobs, “I was so worried. I thought I’d lost you. You have no idea how happy I am you’re okay!”

But Natasha was no longer interested in Gabriel. Instead, her eyes were locked on something behind her brother, her focus completely elsewhere. She was looking at something glistening, something shining.

Natasha was transfixed by a golden earring, dangling from Vish’s ear.