Sparrow on a Plank Chapter 9: Freeing A Sparrow From Its Cage

Sal and Rick were just outside the inn cum listening post. There had been no traffic in or out for the last hour; yet another signal to the surrounding area that this wasn't a regular inn. They quickly determined how to enter the building, and then walked to the building. It wasn't until they had reached the building that they noticed it had grown a few extra shadows, and that those shadows were pointier than they should be. They were actually happy to see them; that meant there were fewer of them inside, once they got past the guards on the outside.

They flew from shadow to shadow, attempting to remain unseen by the guard, who would hopefully care less about the flitting shadows; the guards were so used to the bats that frequented the area looking for insects flying around the lamps and the owls looking for mice that ate the leftover grain from the day's merchants that they ignored anything that didn't directly approach the inn. Of course, this made life interesting for snipers as they had to quickly distinguish between flying objects and determine which were okay and which were dangerous,

In a few moments, the couple had crossed the distance. They stopped just short of the shadow's end and looked towards the rear entrance. Two men stood outside the rear entrance; they looked a little tougher than the average cultist, but Sal and Rick were confident that they would be easy enough to deal with. They jumped down just behind the men.

The men spun, metal appearing in their hands as if by magic. Sal looked at Rick. “This just got interesting.”

He returned her glance. “Interesting sucks.”

They turned to the men, who moved as if they were of one mind, the results of drilling for so long together. Rick engaged them as quickly to distract them from charging Sal. He fought defensively, parrying the pair's best lunges and thrusts. Sal moved a little closer, prepping a few choice daggers.

He yelled at her. “A little help would be appreciated here!”

“I'm almost there! But you are doing so fine!” She moved into position just behind the two.

Rick parried a thrust while dodging another. “I could be doing finer!” He took a step back.

Sal smiled, and her daggers started flying. Her first missed, hitting the wall behind them. Her next two found their mark deep in the back of one of the cultists. He fell to his knees, and then to the ground. Rick lunged. The guard attempted to parry. Rick turned his lunge into a slash, separating the cultist's head from his neck.

Rick wiped his blade. “That was close.”

Sal retrieved her spent daggers. “Don't complain; you were doing fine. Now, let's go find the kid.”

“He'd better be alive.” He sliced the air in front of him to emphasize his point. He sheathed the blade, and then the two of them ran into the lion's den.

* * * * *

The subject of the rescue itself was just beginning to wake up. The rug may have been smooth and fluffy on top, but it was rough and scratchy on the bottom. Between the rug and the stone altar, Hajime was not very comfortable. Then again, comfort was probably not high on the list when developing an altar to sacrifice souls to the lord of a frozen hell. At least he didn't feel it if he didn't move any. He swore in Greek under his breath; the language was very good for swearing, unlike his native tongue (which was far too polite). He had to get out from under the rug.

He concentrated on his ears for a moment, willing them to grow a little longer, a little bit more able to focus on listening for the slightest breath. After a few moments, when he couldn't bear it anymore, and when he hadn't heard anything, he dared to peek out. He felt a little weird when he saw no one in the room, but shrugged as he decided to take advantage of his tormentors' absence and started manipulating the weighted rope.

He quickly discovered that the rope's weights were pretty heavy. The ropes themselves were tied so that they were just beyond his fingertips. He smiled. This is some pretty respectable knotwork.

The weights kept him from changing; his sparrow form couldn't lift the weights and his wings would be torn from his body. They also kept the ropes tight so there was no slack; his usual escape tricks wouldn't work. The ropes also prevented him from casting spells. His ring carried his clothes and some spare equipment, but it lay on his bare chest, well out of his reach.

Well, if my usual tricks won't work, then time to try something unusual. He closed his eyes and began to breathe shallowly. His arms and legs grew in diameter just a little bit; the strain of the muscle growth caused him to turn red. In moments, he had a little more mass than usual. He stopped to deal with the pain, and then fought through it; he needed his fingernails to grow a little. When they had doubled in size, he stopped.

He exhaled deeply and then jerked his arms toward his chest, then let them go. This caused some slack in the rope, allowing him to claw at the ropes. The weights fell. In moments he had untied the rope scraps. He knelt down and allowed his body to return to normal; he was sore from the modifications and he would need to go slow for a bit. He held his ring and summoned his clothes. 0

He took a look around. He saw a large black box, which piqued his interest a bit, or at least the large antique lock on it. He walked over to it, looking around, making sure that no one was actually there. He was always looking for new locks, or at least those new to him, and the antique lock was just so inviting. Besides, it was a BIG BOX; he was curious about what was in it and figured that since he wasn't a cat there shouldn't be an issue. He brought out his picks from their hiding place in his cuffs and attacked the lock.

It was open in moments, making him sort of sad; he was hoping for a greater challenge. He put his picks away, opened it, and smiled; sure there was a few thousand in gold and jewels, but there was also a very beautiful bauble inside. He slowly picked up the necklace, inspecting it with his magic sense. He was very happy with what he found, a simple golden chain carrying a few ruby spheres wherein someone had locked what his sense showed was a fire evocation spell in each. He put the necklace in his vest pocket, making a mental note to be very careful with the contents of that pocket.

This was the necklace they had been sent to find.

He decided to leave the room quickly before he jinxed the moment. He heard a battle happening in the distance and decided that he would head that way. If nothing else he might be able to help the invaders and escape with them. He hoped he didn't need to fight; he was still sore.

[The last chapter can be found here. The next chapter can be found here.]