They'd learned more from the bandits' brief conversation than Ardul's entire dossier had told them, so, despite the miserable weather, once the bandits had retreated into the small cabin, the group had snuck closer and, using Jasper's Eternal Darkness spell, had parked themselves near a window to listen in.

They'd weathered the cold rain for hours until even Jasper, who was mostly immune to the temperature, could think of nothing he'd rather do than head inside and curl up by the fire with a mug of coffee. Too bad they don't have coffee here.

But those hours of misery had not been in vain. While, unfortunately, none of the bandits had felt like delivering a villain's monologue that revealed their master plan, their conversations had proved informative nonetheless. There spoke of at least two other camps, one of them overseen by the mysterious Ammatu and another by an unnamed captain.

There were a lot more bandits than they'd anticipated as well - the group with the castle guard was just the first of the bandit patrols to return. More streamed in as night crept close and, though he had no solid numbers, Jasper guessed the bandits in the camp must have numbered fifty or more. Fortunately, they weren't all Zalancthians, so it wasn't an entire group resistant to magic, but it was still a larger group than he'd expected.

The third piece of information, though, had been the most valuable. The bandits had prisoners in the cavern.

As the conversation inside died down, Jasper turned and, gesturing to the others to follow, crept back toward the forest. He paused once they were out of earshot, speaking in a low whisper. "What do you think? Should we take down the camp now, or go look for the others and see what we can learn there?"

"We should try to find the camp with this Ammatu," Nissilât was quick to speak up. "She appears to be their leader, so perhaps killing her will put an end to their activities."

"These camps seem pretty independent," Jasper pointed out. "I doubt it will fix the problem."

"Even if it doesn't, it's still the best course of action. She knows we're here and is gathering information on us - we should take her out now before she has time to plan."

"But we don't know where her camp is," Ihra butted in. "And if we kill here, we might lose our chance to track down the traitor in Dūr-Sūqêrbettu. The Zalancthians could always send another commander, so as long as the rat remains free, the castle isn't safe."

"We have no leads on the traitor-" Nissilat started to say, but Jasper shook his head.

"We might have one." He jerked his head toward the cave. "Four bodies were missing from the patrol," he reminded them. "And we've only seen two of the guards working with the bandits. Maybe the other two are with the prisoners - and if they are, they might just know who the traitor is."

"So you want to attack now?" Tsia asked.

"I don't know," Jasper admitted with a sigh. "I do see your point, Nissilăt. This Ammatu person seems like a threat, and I don't want to give her more information on our abilities than necessary. I don't know if there's anything she can actually do with it or not, but between the stoneflesh's natural resistance and that weird-ass potion, we're already on the back foot here. We don't need any more disadvantages. But…" His eyes drifted back toward the cave. "We don't know where her camp is yet and if we go looking for it, these prisoners might not still be here when we return. I vote we attack now, but if the rest of you feel differently…"

"We're here, aren't we?" Ihra shrugged. "Might as well strike now."

"I don't care," Tsia piped up, which left only Nissilât.

"It seems I'm outnumbered," she said dryly. "Very well, what's the plan?"

For a change, the weather worked in their favor. Between the pelting rain and the thick clouds that blotted out every heavenly light, the night was so dark that Jasper could barely make out his hand in front of his face. Better yet, the bandits had set no guards, with most retreating to the cavern, while a few remained in the small cabin.

The only source of light was the lantern hanging by the cabin door, as Jasper crept onto the porch. He crouched beneath the window and peeked an eye through the muddy frame.

The one-room cabin had a single bed crammed into the corner and a dying fire in the cobblestone hearth. Jasper counted two men in the bed, and another six or seven lying on the ground, wrapped in thick woolen blankets. There were probably a few more as well - in one corner of the room, a ladder led up to a loft that he was unable to get a good view of.

The rain drowned out the sound of his steps as he tiptoed to the door and carefully pushed it open. Jasper started to curse as the door resisted his shove, thinking that it was locked, but then the moisture-swollen wood broke free with an ominous creak.

Quick as a flash, Jasper grabbed the door, silencing its whine. His heart thumped wildly as he strained to hear if there was any noise from inside, but the cabin remained silent. After a few seconds, he slowly, methodically, inched it open until the door was wide enough for him to squeeze through.

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The four of them had debated the best way to take out the bandits. Killing them in their sleep seemed the most practical, even if the idea sat uncomfortably in his stomach, but when he'd suggested creeping in and slitting their throats, Nissilat had burst out laughing.

"Do you think that's a quiet death? The moment you cut the first man's jugular, he'll be gasping, choking, and thrashing around like a fish out of water. You won't have time to kill a second one before the whole cabin's on you."

So they'd settled on a different strategy instead. He licked his lips nervously as he cast his first spell, unsure even if it would even affect the sleeping Zalancthians. For a moment, all was silent as a pale, wriggling hand emerged from the rotting wooden floor. Then the cabin erupted in pandemonium.

Unfamiliar curses filled the air as the men lurched awake, straining against the spell's binding presence. The Zalancthians' resistance was immediately obvious, allowing some to sit up or roll on their knees as the hand danced before them, but they weren't able to shake it off entirely. Their movements were slow and sluggish as Jasper cast the second spell.

Breath of Bas̆mu.

As the dark fog emanating from his fingers spread throughout the room, the stonefleshes' angry cries turned into screams.

He dove to the side as a shadow stirred in the fog, and kicked out with his leg as a Zalancthian slammed his fist into the door. The stoneflesh fell to the ground heavily, struggling to rise as Jasper renewed Punishing Hand. With a groan of effort, the man flung himself on his back, blood weeping from every orifice as he strained to reach Jasper's leg.

It was easy to avoid his grasp, but Jasper knew his time was running out as he noticed another shadow stirring in the mist. Recasting Breath of Bas̆mu, he dove for the door as another Zalancthian staggered toward him, gasping in pain as a thrown dagger hit him between the ribs.

"Fiery Shackles." Jasper flung the door open as burning manacles clasped around the legs of the two nearest enemies and slammed it behind him. He'd barely set his legs before the door shuddered beneath the weight of an unseen foe, but he kept his footing.

The Zalancthian was stupid, though. A moment later, the window shattered, showering him with glass shards, but their welcoming party was waiting. The man slumped over with an arrow in his throat as, with a quick kick, Ihra shoved him back inside. Another dove through almost immediately, but landed on the porch with a sad thwop as the elfling gutted him with her dagger.

The crack of thunder echoed from the far side of the cabin, and Jasper cursed. I thought we said silent magic, Tsia. What part of lightning do you think is stealthy?

The thought had barely flitted through his mind when it was replaced by agony. His knees snapped as, with a single blow, the door exploded into sawdust. He flew through the air, landing nearly thirty feet away in the half-flooded yard.

The pain hadn't quite caught up to his mind yet as he tried to stand, but an inhuman scream ripped from his lungs as his legs buckled beneath them, broken shards of bone ripping through his skin. Ci…circle of…

The Zalancthian that stepped through the doorway was clearly possessed by the same potion they'd seen before. In the dark night, the glowing yellow eyes stood out like neon signs, and Jasper lost his control over the spell as the being's visceral hatred hit him like a hammer.

The porch splintered beneath its weight as the possessed man charged toward him, but his trajectory was thrown off as Ihra tackled him from the side.

"Just die already." Her legs wrapped around the Zalancthian's torso as she ripped her misericorde through his throat and used her momentum to carry them both to the ground. But the possessed man could not be stopped by something so minor as a slit throat.

With a gurgling howl, the Zalancthian rolled over and pinned her to the ground. As his hands wrapped around her throat, adrenaline cleared Jasper's mind. Circle of Forgiveness.

The bones were still snapping into place as he lurched to his feet, every step an exercise in agony, and raised his hand to cast a spell. With Ihra trapped beneath the stoneflesh, his options were pretty limited - nearly everything he could cast would hurt her too, but there was one spell in his repertoire that was more targeted. Purge.

The bandit's hands loosened as the spell hit him, and Ihra took her chance. Her face grew pale as she activated The Still Pond, and dumping her health into strength, kicked the man off of her with another force to send him flying.

Seraph's Burst. Jasper blurred forward in a storm of metal wings to intercept the man, driving him into the cabin walls, but the stoneflesh was still not down for the count.

Stars danced before his vision as the man headbutted him and then, wrapping his hand around Jasper's throat, tossed him halfway across the field.

Son of a bitch. Jasper bounced across the muddy ground before the fence caught him squarely in the ribs. He could feel them cracking, feel the air leave his lungs as the bone punctured them, but he was already casting Circle of Forgiveness. Another spell was already twisting on his fingertips as he staggered to his feet, but he needn't have bothered.

As the stoneflesh charged toward them, an arrow hit his chest. The projectile hadn't stopped quivering before another hit him, followed by a third. It still wasn't enough to put him down, but then the fourth arrived, burying itself deep in his neck.

With an angry growl, he charged toward Ihra, and then the arrow activated. A bright red blade expanded on both sides, carving through flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter, and his head slid off. Another one down.

Not daring to risk wasting more of his essence, Jasper limped over to Ihra as fast as his legs would carry him. "You alright? Do you need healing?"

"Been better," she replied bluntly as she rose to her feet, massaging her throat gingerly, "but I'll live. But Jasper?"

He blinked.

"What if there are more of these things? We can't fight a whole mob of them at once."

"This guy was tougher than the last one," Jasper hedged. "But, yeah, you're right. I don't know if we can clear the cavern by ourselves."

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