It was the second time in the cambion’s short life that he had been caged in the back of a horse-drawn wagon. The last one had been a luxury compared to the current cramped accommodation. It was even worse for Muzio, who could neither sit comfortably, nor stand fully upright. He was stuck in an awkward kneeling squat, in the same position he had been when forced inside.

Felix and Muzio felt every wayward rock and bump in the road as their bodies crashed into the steel bars. This got worse when they pulled off the road and headed into the trees. There must have been some enchantment on the wheels of the rickety thing that carried them. The wagon creaked and groaned but didn't break despite the impossible angles the wheels sometimes turned as they traveled over gnarly roots and mossy stones.

Father Sandra never tired of preaching over his shoulder at his prisoners. That didn't mean he said anything intelligible, though. His ramblings about revelation and his mission and God’s mercy had quickly devolved into gibberish only he could understand.

It got on Felix’s nerves. He wished he could slice the priest’s neck with his claws, but it was just out of reach.

“Yeah yeah we get it already,” Felix complained. It was about the umpteenth time the fanatic priest cycled through his villainous monologue, and the cambion talked over him just to change up the pace. “You can't wait until we're back in your creepy lair. You can’t wait to show us your terrifying magical doodad. Bla-dee-blah. Is it really so ugly that just looking at it is going to kill us? Seriously man, this is why you don't have any friends. And creepy hooded zombies don't count.”

“Beauty! A truly DIVINE Revelation! Love of the most HIGH! All of us are but worms under the majesty! God's infinite MERCY!” The priest continued his word-vomit without missing a beat.

“Focus,” Muzio muttered over his shoulder. Or as close to over his shoulder as he could muster. He had been placed facing away from the cambion and had just enough space to turn his head. “Don't do something rash.”

Felix kept going anyway.

“Where are you taking us anyway? Are we dealing with a creepy temple scenario? Maybe it's your idea of a fun farm? Is ‘mercy’ a euphemism? It’s something dirty, I can tell. I bet you keep your euphemism in a monastery, and all your priest buddies do all this weird sex stuff... ”

In truth, the cambion had hoped the oily priest would reveal something useful about where they were going in his religious fuge, but despite spending the next few minutes trying to get under Father Sandra’s skin, he never changed his tune. After a second warning from Muzio, he quit trying.

Soon it was full dark and they were deep under a canopy of trees. The only light source came from a glowing grayish-purple orb that hovered just ahead of the wagon, illuminating the way forward and causing shadows to dance all around ominously. It was gaseous and dim, and made Felix think of the words will-o-the-wisp.

There was an eerie quiet to this forest, and the wagon had found a grassy path now, so at least the two prisoners weren’t being buffeted against the bars. The priest’s voice as he rattled on and on was the only other sound beside the soft shuffling steps of the eight cloaked figures that served as their retinue.

Felix’s fluffy ears twitched as they caught the distinct sounds of Muzio’s whisper.

“Don't risk saying anything, kid.” Muzio said. “I know you can hear me with those crazy ears of yours.”

Father Sandra seemed to be ignoring anything they had to say anyway, but Felix respected the extra precaution.

Muzio chuckled wryly. “I bet you can probably see just fine too. It's that damned Outworlder luck of yours. It was always yours, not mine.”

He sounded resigned, and after taking a look around, suddenly Felix understood why. While the cambion could see just fine in this low light setting, it was only thanks to his feline eyes. Father Sandra’s wispy guiding light was meant for the horses as the odd priest actually preferred the darkness. If the shambling retinue were bothered by the low light, they gave no sign.

If Muzio couldn't see well enough to defend himself in this darkness, that added another layer of complication to their already shafted escape plan. There were already enough snafus in their plan. Felix mentally kicked himself for not acting sooner on his own idea of making the attempt from within Mud Castle. He could have acted one of those nights when the guards were being lazy.

Instead, Muzio had counseled readiness in anticipation of an opportunity when they were transported. The whole time, Muzio had been confident their chances would be greater if they had limited enemies and a favorable environment. This forest was actually Muzios ideal scenario. Except, they had always assumed they would travel during the day. It was a rule merchants, travelers, and adventurers everywhere tended to follow: if you can help it, travel during the day and rest at night. Many dangerous monsters lurked in the shadows of the night. The further away from big cities and civilization, the more dangerous they became. The risk was even greater within areas of high magical density, where the monsters were even stronger. Father Sandra not only ignored the danger, but seemed so at ease traveling in the dark that he had no qualms doing so while spewing his zealous drivel at the top of his lungs, attracting all the monsters in the area who came to investigate the source of all the racket.

None had yet to attack, though. And none would. Father Sandra traveled these woods regularly both day and night. The local wildlife had been trained on the folly of attacking the jolly mad priest. Their presence, however, was another complication for when Felix tried to make a run through it. He didn’t know if Muzio caught on to their presence, but the cambion could smell them. Also, his sharp eyes occasionally caught glimpses of shadows leaping between the trees and along the branches of the trees above.

“If you can get away, do it.” Muzio said. His voice was only a little strained from the hours of effort keeping his body in that awkward position. He actually sounded fine, all things considered. A weaker man might have been crippled by cramps. They certainly wouldn't be as calm as he was. Especially when he seemed to be suggesting that his only ally in escape abandon him. “I want you to know I won’t fault you. In the end, we’re still strangers. I won't blame you for choosing life over a fruitless death.”

Is he telling me to leave him? It’s not like that’s a bad idea. What could I do to help him now anyway? I should look out for my own skin. Yes, having Muzio would be useful… not only can he fight, but he can help me get better acquainted with this world and increase my chances of survival. Ugh, maybe we really should have tried to escape back at the Mud Castle.

If the cambion had acted at the castle, he ran the risk of being caught, but he at least knew the dangers and had a plan. He needed to have blink teleported out of the cage without being detected, stolen weapons and keys, released Muzio, and fought their way out of the Mud Castle, possibly with Raine in tow… who they needed to find first...

Now that he thought about it, maybe the chances for success there were just as bad as they were here. At least the cambion could have counted on Muzio’s help there. Here it wasn’t looking like it would be an option unless the cambion produced a miracle.

Even if Muzio’s ability to see wasn’t an issue, getting him out of the cage might be impossible. Yes, they had secured keys to get Muzio out of his shackles. However, Felix wasn't sure the man had enough space in his cage to use them. He might be able to unlock his chains, but reaching behind his neck to unlock the suppression color was an impossibility at the moment. Another problem was they didn't have keys to the enchanted padlock securing his door. Nor could Felix steal them.

Father Sandra had done two things immediately after locking them up. He had chanted a reinforcement spell upon the cages and locks, and he had tucked the skeleton key that opened them into a dimensional storage space. Muzio cursed when he saw the priest do this, and even if he hadn't been able to explain to Felix what he had just seen, the cambion’s spatial magic affinity allowed him to put together the pieces and understand what happened.

It looked like Father Sandra held up the key, and in a flash of green light, it was gone. And yet, Felix had seen the nearby invisible disc of runes that had appeared for a fraction of a second. The runes had folded space at the epicenter of the disc and revealed a tiny pocket dimension. For an instant, between the weave of spatial magic, Felix thought he caught a glimpse of a number of objects floating in the void before the key entered and was gone.

Felix guessed that the pocket dimension was tied to Father Sandra in some way, and unless he willingly withdrew the key, there was no way to obtain it. Well, it was possible that the contents of the pocket dimension would burst forth upon the priest’s death.

At least, that was what the cambion was banking on.

After encouraging the cambion to escape if he could, Muzio went quiet. He didn’t look defeated. He was probably biding his time until the inevitable time as someone opened his cage to let him out. Even with just his chains free, he would probably be able to put up a decent fight.

Felix didn’t like that plan. He had considered the possibility that whatever fate awaited them at their destination, it might not require them to be taken out of their cages at all. Not alive, anyway. Also, there was no telling how many more enemies would be present wherever they were going. Waiting to see the magical doodad “revelation” the priest kept going on about was also not a heartwarming proposition.

All these considerations led the cambion to the singular conclusion that he didn’t want to wait and see what happened to him next. Instead, he decided to be the thing that happened next to someone else.

He briefly thought about attempting to blink teleport out from his cage and simply abandon Muzio. It reminded him of the time he nearly did the same to Blomdorf, before stupidly diving into a mountain of large blighted rats to try and rescue him.

Like then, it was the idea of being alone that scared him. He was afraid of it. More than any sense of loyalty or affection for people that were, as Muzio had said, strangers.

There was really only one thing he could think of that might give him a chance. It was a long shot, a wild idea.

If it failed, he could still bail and take his chances in the dark with the monsters.

He took a last look at his status in a last minute effort to comfort himself. He had no idea if he was strong enough.

His blink teleport skill had risen to level three, expanding his range from 10 meters to 50, and reducing the mana cost from high to moderate. ‘Level three’ seemed like such a small number to him, but Muzio had assured him it was an admirable proficiency level given how little time he had to acquire it, and given its considerable usefulness both in and out of combat.

Blink Teleport Lvl. 3 Novice (Tier 1)

Expend mana to defy the laws of physics, allowing you to instantly travel between two locations. At current level, you may only travel to a location within 50 meters that is within your line of sight. Mana cost, moderate.

Increase proficiency to expand the range, utility, and mana efficiency of this skill.

Felix knew that with his current level and abilities, he could blink teleport up to three times in rapid succession before he experienced any strain on his senses. It would take him thirty seconds to recover an additional use, and about two minutes before he was completely recovered if he immediately used the ability again. Extended or excessive use of the skill left him feeling drained to the point of passing out. Muzio didn’t recommend he push himself like that in a fight unless it was absolutely necessary, as it would leave him vulnerable.

The strain helped Felix increase his Spirit attribute, but Felix didn’t quite have a handle on what his attributes meant. He only hoped that his current power was sufficient for the crazy stunt he was about to pull.

He startled himself with his own tail thumping against his leg. Honestly, he forgot it was there sometimes. It had grown steadily every day, but he didn’t think it was fully grown yet. Right now it was as long as his forearm and reached halfway down his leg. He remembered the blinkus cat used it for balance and better maneuvering. It was unlikely to be useful to him now. He tried coiling it around his waist to get it out of the way.

I really want some pants…

The cambion was still wearing only the ragged cloth given to him by the bandits, which he had at least learned to tie into a makeshift loincloth secured with a slender piece of rope that amounted to little more than string. He was basically going to fight naked. Nothing new, really.

The priest was, naturally, in the middle of one of his favorite phrases. He inflected strangely, and it almost sounded like a song.

“BLESSED be the night that our LORD hath made! Let us REJOICE and…”

The cambion took a deep breath to steel his resolve. Then he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Hey Father Sandra! I think one of your precious prisoners just escaped!”

This got the priest’s attention. As unlikely as it was to be true, he turned on impulse. He was surprised to discover that the cage holding the teenage beastkin, who he was sure had been the one to shout, was indeed empty.