Crow went to Broana and gently coaxed her away, running his hand along the length of her muzzle. "Sara and Rake guess there are at least a hundred mercenaries inside."
Barghast swore in Okanavic; he'd already mounted his stallion, Gunpowder. The horse dwarfed Broana in size. Jack steered his own mare up beside Gunpowder, revolvers bouncing slightly within the holsters strapped to his hips. His bracketed mouth was set in a grim line. He wore a black hat to hide the whiteness of his hair.
"I guess we'll have to blast through the gate, make a path to the cell block, and escort them out. Jack, do you have the dynamite?"
Jack patted his saddlebag with an air of affection. "Of course."
Pulling on the reins, Crow gracefully mounted Broana, running his hand along her neck as he did. His stomach was full of snakes that had tangled themselves into knots. The practitioner turned to Barghast, a wide-eyed expression of fear on his bony face. They'd gone on plenty of perilous missions over the last year, but they'd never had to break into a fort with a hundred armed mercenaries. "Do you think we'll manage?" he asked, fighting the urge to grab his crucifix for comfort.
Barghast laughed as if Crow had just made a joke; the sound was explosive in the stillness around them. "I'll make the same deal with you as I did when you first joined, kid - you watch my back and I'll watch yours."
Crow couldn't help but smile. "Of course."
Sara, he sent, drawing on his mana. We are on our way to you. Hold tight.
Affirmative, came the reply.
Crow gently pressed the spurs of his boots into Broana's sides, urging her to follow Barghast and Jack. The three Stray Dogs passed the rotting edifices of the city at a gallop. Somewhere the howl of a coyote pierced the night, seeming to come from all directions. Crow had to keep rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands to wipe the tears away; his eyes had become very dry. Blown sand and dust had created a crusty rim at the corners. Despite the tension he sensed in the air and within himself, there was an undeniable excitement. After three days of waiting they were finally acting.
With the city now dropping behind them, receding into inky blackness and rolling sandhills, the terrain became more rugged. Desert weeds poked up from underneath the sand. Clusters of cacti congregated in odd places, seeming to watch them.
Barghast and Jack were riding side by side. Occasionally Crow caught drifts of conversation from them. "Do you remember that time when…?" "Yes, all too well..." Amused laughter. Friendly banter passed between the longtime companions.
Crow felt an all too familiar pang of melancholy, of loneliness. He wanted to join them, wanted to find comfort in their camaraderie. He'd dedicated a year of his life to the Stray Dogs and to the Inquisition. He didn't expect glory or riches, but he did wonder when he would finally be truly included as a member of the squad.
Never. You're a practitioner. He clutched the crucifix in his hands hard enough for edges to dig in his skin. "Mercius, help me," he whispered out loud to himself. "May Your Light guide me."
At long last they reached a cluster of trees that had grown close together. The three Stray Dogs began making their way through the desert weeds. Insects buzzed in Crow's ears. They were close enough to the other side of the tree growth that Crow could see the glowing torchlit walls of Fort Erikson. Guards marched along the walls of the fort. He heard one of them laugh. Rake and Lydia's horses would be somewhere close by. Crow inhaled a deep breath, trying to slow the racing of his heart. He was aware of every passing second. Though it had only taken them a few minutes to reach the treeline from the dead city, it seemed to take hours. He prayed for the others' safety. He inhaled again, breathing in the smell of sweat; whether it was his own or one of the others, he was not sure.
"Did you bring enough dynamite to blow through the gate?" Barghast whispered to Jack.
Jack glared at him in annoyance. "What do you think?"
They fastened the reins of their horses around the trunk of a large tree and left the cover of darkness. They slipped carefully up the hill, toward the rear of the fort where there was less illumination and guard activity. Pressing his back against the wall, Crow slid along it after Barghast and Jack. He stepped carefully where the ground dipped down and became rocky. Adrenaline kept him alert, on edge. He kept expecting to hear the shout of a guard followed by the crack of gunfire, but so far none of the guards had spotted them. When the three Stray Dogs reached the gate, Crow thought, They don't think anyone will try to attack them. Why would they? There's nothing else out here but coyotes. They think their walls will keep them safe.
They were in for a surprise, for they had never met the Stray Dogs.
Jack pulled the bundle of dynamite from his bag, moving quickly but carefully. He did not count to three or check to see if the others were ready. He simply struck a match and put it to the fuse. The fuse burst into life and began to burn. Jack's eyes were narrowed into slits; the tip of his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth. Just as Crow heard one of the guards shout, alerted by the light, Jack chucked the bundle of dynamite at the gate.
Crow saw the muzzle flash of gun fire above their heads a split second before bullets began smashing into the sandy ground just in front of their feet. He shrank back instinctively against the wall, shielding his eyes with his hands. The Stray Dogs scampered back away from the gate like frightened rabbits. Crow counted the passing of each second. He could all too easily imagine the fuse burning closer and closer to the end until…
The entire world seemed to shake beneath his feet, almost throwing him on his ass.
A cloud of fire, smoke, and splinters of wood burst outward. Crow was flattened against the wall by the shockwave of the blast hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. His ears rang with the wail of a thousand alarms and the continuous barrage of gunfire that seemed to have no end. He knew he needed to get up and get moving, but his limbs felt as if they were made of stone. To his left, out of the corner of his eye, a human shape seemed to plummet from the sky before hitting the rocky ground. He was grateful he could not hear the crunch of breaking bone. The impact had split the Red Wraith's skull open like a watermelon so that blood and pulpy matter - that would be his brains I'm looking at, Crow thought absently - were leaking out into the sand like egg yolk.
Just imagine it's fruit juice and his head is a cantaloupe, Crow thought unhelpfully. Staggering to his feet, having to cling to the wall for support, the practitioner vomited whatever he'd eaten today. He scrambled after Barghast and Jack who were sprinting toward the wall.
Once at the archway, Crow drew the hood of his cloak over his head, hiding his features. Drawing on his mana, energy fanned out from him, coalescing into a sphere of pure kinetic energy. Fear gave way, overpowered by the giddy feeling of release and power. His eyes glowed a milky white.
A wide smile spread across his face.