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“Headstrong and stubborn?” grins Jiron back.

“Something like that,” he replies with a chuckle.

From outside, the sound of a lone horse is heard approaching the farmhouse. James immediately cancels his orb as he gets to his feet.

“Stay here,” Jiron whispers as he pulls a knife and moves to the open doorway. Gazing out, he sees a horseman silhouetted by the moonlight. The man has come to a stop and is staring at the house, probably trying to figure out why the light went out. His hands remain free of weapons as he continues to scrutinize the house.

Moving along the inside wall of the farmhouse, Jiron makes his way over to the window on the opposite side. Slipping through, he lands on the ground outside silently and makes his way back around to the front. When he gets to the corner he peers around to find the man still sitting there.

Suddenly, an orb flashes into being above the man’s head, startling him. He draws his sword and makes to flee.

“Wait!” cries out Jiron as he places his knife back in its sheath. The man is obviously from the north.

James realizes the same thing and comes out from the house. “We’re friends!” he hollers a second behind Jiron. The orb above the man’s head winks out as another appears over James’ shoulder.

“James?” the man asks.

Stepping forward, James nods his head.

Sighing in relief, the man says, “You scared me out of ten year’s growth.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes.

“No harm done,” the man replies. “We’ve had riders out looking for you ever since you blew the bridge earlier today.”

“Are you from Black Hawk?” Jiron asks.

“That’s right,” the man says. “Was supposed to let you know where he is.”

“We already know,” explains James. “Tell him our horses are exhausted and we will be there in the morning. Also, there’s a sizeable force a half a day away to the north. Another one is closing on him from the east, at least two thousand riders strong.”

“With the mages coming from the south this could get bad,” the rider comments.

“Mages?” asks James. “What mages?” He glances to Jiron and sees the worry in his eyes.

“Heard from another scout that had come from the south that there are a score of them,” he explains.

“How close were they?” Jiron asks.

“Last I heard they were a day away,” he tells him. “But that was this morning and at the time they weren’t making any effort to catch us, just keeping pace.”

James thinks for a minute then says, “Tell Illan to stay where he is and prepare for attack. We’ll get there as soon as it’s light. Hopefully no attack will come before then.”

“Yes, sir,” the scout says then turns his horse around and gallops away into the night.

Jiron hears a sigh escape James. Glancing over to him he arcs an eyebrow questioningly.

“A score of mages,” he says. “How am I going to best a score of mages?”

“Remember what you did at the City of Light?” he asks.

“Yes I do,” he replies with a nod. “But if I do that, I’ll end up killing us all. That much power would surely create an explosion of epic proportions. Our people would never get away in time to escape the blast.”

“You always say that if you have time to prepare, you can do anything,” Jiron states.

“I never said I could do anything, just that it is easier on me,” he corrects.

Jiron looks at him with an expression that says ‘stop nitpicking’. “What I mean is, you have all night,” he clarifies. “Can’t you come up with something?”

His mind is frozen with the thought of having to face twenty mages. He simply can’t get around that fact. Back before they bolted into the buried city, the mages were kicking his butt badly. These are most likely the very same mages. What has changed other than he’s more tired now and has fewer reserves with which to draw upon?

Shaking his head, he says, “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s just that I’m exhausted.” He can see the disappointment in his eyes.

Jiron stares at him for a moment. Finally breaking the silence, he says, “Then you get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

James lays back on his