“Jailbreak, for starters,” said Cain, intruding on the pair. “And I assume this filly here is Miss Well-Meaning-Accessory-to-Jailbreak. Time to go back, Jacques.”

Jacques recognized the village storekeep, although he appeared nothing like he had below. Gone were the patched trousers, stained tunic, and unkempt hair. In its place was an imposing man, dressed in armor the color of brass, wielding a warhammer with the ease of a quill.

Gabrielle jumped to her feet, anxiously looking around. They might be able to get around the Keeper. Just inside the drawbridge was the gatehouse door. A door with a lock.

“If we can just get inside, you can use your key to escape!” she hissed.

Jacques rose and looked at her quizically.

“Why would I do that? I want to go!”

Cain shrugged noisily. “There you go, Miss. Come along Jacques. Now if Roland will come along as easily…”

Jacques looked stunned. “Roland is here?”

“I am,” shouted Roland, drifting down from the battlements, eyes blazing.

The storm finally broke.