The first place they find is an old tavern with questionable clientele. Walking in, they see the mangiest group of derelicts this side of the gutter. “Perfect!” announces Scar as they sit at a large table off to one side.
A woman with a small beard and a patch over one eye comes up to them and says something that none can understand. Despite the language barrier, they finally make her understand that they want drinks. She brings them over several bottles of a foul smelling concoction that makes their eyes bug out and slightly burns as it goes down.
“Like mother’s milk,” Potbelly squeaks out after downing a large swallow.
“I hope they’re not trying to poison us,” Scar says as the liquid burns its way down to his stomach.
They sit there and drink for awhile, trading tales both true and improbable when a group of tough looking men walk into the tavern. They see them sitting at the table and walk over toward them. When they reach the table, one of them says something belligerently to them, which of course no one understands. Their failure to respond only makes him all the madder.
“What do you suppose is wrong?” Shorty asks.
A man sitting at a table next to theirs says, “You’re sitting at their table and they want you out.”
Jiron looks at the spokesman for the group and he says, “No, you find your own table. This one’s ours.”
Even though he couldn’t understand the words, he understood the meaning behind them. The man suddenly reaches out and grabs Jiron by the shirt as he starts hauling him out of his chair.
Jiron stands up while at the same time swinging his fist with all his strength and connects with the man’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward several feet into his fellows.
Then pandemonium erupts as one of the man’s friends takes a swing at Jiron and both sides join the fray.
“For Tinok!” Scar yells as he trades blows with a large individual, finally sending him to the floor with two quick blows to the stomach and then one to the face, breaking his nose. Turning, he sees Shorty being tossed through the air where he hits the wall with a thud.
The other tavern’s patrons quickly make for the sides of the room or out the door to avoid becoming embroiled in the fighting. Some join in, those who always enjoy a good fight no matter the reason.
The fighting remains fairly even until the town watch shows up. When Potbelly sees them enter he yells, “The town watch!” They all turn to see a dozen uniformed men entering wielding clubs, which they use to start felling brawlers.
Trading a few more blows, they turn and race to the other side of the tavern where they dive through the windows or run out the door into a side alley, to avoid being taken in. A quick survey shows them all there and then they race down the alley.
“Man that was a good fight!” exclaims Yorn, wiping blood away from his nose.
“Just what I needed,” Jiron adds, smiling.
Stig says, “I think one of my teeth are loose,” as he wiggles one.
Walking down a little further, they find another tavern where they’re able to resume their drinking once more. An hour passes and they’re beginning to get fairly drunk, having a grand time. A girl comes over to them and asks, “So, are you boys new in town?”
“Yeah,” Stig replies as she makes herself comfortable on his lap, “just passing through.” He places his arms around her as she leans against his chest.
“I’ve got some friends who would like some company tonight,” she says sultrily and she runs her fingers through Stig’s hairy chest. “If you feel up to it of course.”
“How many friends do you have?” Potbelly asks.
“Oh, more than enough to satisfy you, I’m sure,” she assures him.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Scar says, grabbing the bottle and then getting up from the table.
She gets up off Stig’s lap and leads them out of the tavern.
James paces by the fire, Where are they! Everyone else has already fallen asleep and it’s well past midnight. Probably passed out in the street somewhere. Having to know, he takes the mirror out of his shaving kit and concentrates on Jiron as he gazes into it.
Slowly, Jiron’s image begins to appear and at first it looks like he has in fact passed out somewhere. Broadening the image, he realizes they’re not passed out, but tied up and lying on a dirt floor. He can see the others lying next to him, some are struggling trying to loosen their bonds.
Damn! What did they get themselves into now? Unable to see much more, he puts the mirror away and goes over to wake up Roland.
He gently places a hand on Roland’s arm and gently shakes him.
“What?” Roland says groggily as he wakes up.
“We got trouble,” James whispers to him, trying not to awaken Ezra who’s lying next to him.
Sitting up abruptly, he looks around the camp but doesn’t see anything. “What trouble?” he asks.
“Not here, in town,” he explains. “The guys are in trouble and we need to go get them.”
Roland gets up, gently disengaging himself from Ezra and then goes over to the remnants of the fire with James.
“What happened to them?” he asks.
“I’m not sure,” he says and then explains to Roland what he saw in the mirror. “But we better do something.”
“I agree,” Roland says once he understands their predicament.
James goes over and wakes up Delia, explaining the situation to her so she won’t worry if she were to wake and find them gone. Then he and Roland head into town to try and locate them. James makes sure that he has the belt with his slugs around his waist just in case.
“How are we going to find them?” Roland asks as they enter the town.
He moves over to a side alley and then glances around to make sure no one is watching. “Watch,” he tells him as he lets the magic flow and a shimmering, transparent bubble forms in the air before them. In the dark of the alley it’s almost impossible to see unless you know what to look for. “I’ve been working on this the last couple of days,” he says. “Thought it might come in handy in finding Miko when we finally catch up with him.”
“Amazing,” Roland says as he reaches out his hand to touch it.
“Don’t,” says James as he lays his hand on Roland’s arm. “It would most likely disappear if you do.”
Taking his hand back, he says, “Sorry.”
The bubble begins to float away as it leads them in Jiron’s direction. Several times it floats past people on the streets, but in the dark, they fail to notice it. Whenever James loses sight of it, he has it flash a very dim light until he once again spots it and is able to follow.
It takes them through the city, all the way to the other side, where it comes to rest near the door to an old house with a single light emanating from an upstairs window. The bubble starts to dimly flash in the dark.
“They’re in there,” he tells Roland as he cancels the spell.
“Now what?” he asks.
As James approaches the door, he says, “We knock and ask for them back.”
“What if they don’t admit they’re here?” he asks nervously.
“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to insist,” he says as he knocks loudly upon the door. When there’s no answer, he pounds a little harder.
From the other side they hear footsteps approach and the door opens a crack. A little old lady sticks her head out, “Yes?”
“Good evening ma’am,” James says, somewhat surprised to see such a harmless woman here. “I’m sorry to disturb you in the middle of the night, but I have reason to believe that some friends of mine are here.”
“There’s no one here but me,” she says.
From a window upstairs, Roland sees a shadow move across it. “Someone’s upstairs,” he whispers to James.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you if I can come in to see for myself,” he tells her.
“I’m not letting you into my home!” she says sternly as she starts to close the door.
James kicks out with his foot, causing the door to swing open and accidentally knocks the little old lady to the floor where she begins calling for help.
Coming in quickly, they shut the door and James says, “Gag her and tie her up so she’ll be quiet.”
