"Something's wrong." Beside him, Ihra cocked her head with a frown before grabbing his arm and yanking him down the cave shaft. "It sounds like there's fighting down below."

Crap.

The race down the tunnel was surprisingly precarious, with the slope of the path so steep that Jasper guessed that a single missed step would be enough to send him rolling straight to the bottom. He managed to keep his footing, though, until he spied a man ahead of them in the shaft, running in the same direction and unaware of their presence.

Seraph's Burst. He cast the spell as he leapt in the air and gravity took its hold. Sharp metallic wings burst from his back as he hurtled down the shaft and hit the unsuspecting man from behind. The stoneflesh's resistance to magic availed him nothing as the razor-sharp feathers shredded his flesh, and the force of the spell drove both of them into the ground.

An audible crack filled the air as Jasper landed on top of the man, driving his knee into his back, and the bandit began to spasm. Realizing he had cracked the man's spine, Jasper reached down to put him out of his misery, but screamed in pain himself as a pair of fangs clamped around his wrist.

A massive grey wolf, almost as big as a small pony, dragged him off the bandit as easily as a mother grabbing her toddler. With one hand swallowed up by the wolf's mouth and his other trapped between his body and that of the spasming bandit, Jasper had only one way left to cast a spell.

His screams of pain as the inside of his mouth was scalded and scorched were drowned out by the wolf's yelps as the torrent of flames washed over it. His hand dropped free as the beast scampered backward, rolling around on the ground as it tried to douse the flames that were quickly spreading through its fur.

Fiery Shackles. He ignored the burning pain in his mouth as he pinned the wolf in place and, grabbing his glaive with the hand that wasn't dripping blood, stalked toward the beast, but Ihra beat him to it. The wolf's yelps fell silent as an arrow pierced its eye, and it flopped over, dead.

"You good?"

He grunted in affirmation, his mouth too scalded to speak, and stepped aside to let Ihra and Tsia pass. With a quick twist of his fingers, he recast Circle of Forgiveness, and as the flesh in his mouth regenerated, he ran to catch up with them.

When he reached the bottom of the shaft, he was surprised by what he found. Despite being a mine, the caverns were almost beautiful, with nearly every part of the walls and even the floor being carved out of a soft, white rock that almost looked like salt. Is that a thing?

He didn't have time to ponder the question, though, as an arrow flew at his face. His instincts moved faster than his mind, as his wrist twisted just in time to shove the arrow slightly out of its trajectory with the shaft of his glaive, though the arrowhead still left a bloody trailmark across his cheek.

Damn it. He ducked back behind the shaft entrance and peeked out, trying to get a grasp on the frenzied melee below. The room was smaller than he'd expected, perhaps twice the size of the cabin up above, and positively filled with people. There were at least two dozen people, maybe more, fighting in the cramped space, with a handful of bodies already littering the ground.

A flash of blonde hair caught his attention as a powerfully built bandit, aided by two companions, knocked Ihra to the ground. She rolled to the side, trying to regain her feet, but the one on the left kicked her in the ribs, knocking her back to the ground, while the one in the center slammed his spear through her shoulder, pinning her to the cavern floor.

"Take 'em alive," the stoneflesh roared above the fray. "The Ammatu will want to talk to them."

Purge. Jasper spelled off the spell as he charged toward the trio standing over Ihra, but he'd only taken a couple of steps before he realized it hadn't worked. With a cool gaze, the man waved his companions forward to meet him, while he placed his foot on Ihra, who was struggling to free herself from the spear.

"Careful with the mage," he warned, his voice clearly unaffected by purge's fiery cleanse.

You've got to be kidding me; a bandit isn't bad enough to activate the spell? Jasper swerved to the side as the first bandit closed in, whipping a small club toward his legs. But Jasper wasn't a warrior; although he managed to dodge far enough to avoid taking the brunt of the blow, the club still clipped his leg and sent him spinning to the ground. He landed at the feet of the third bandit, and before he could roll out of the way, the stoneflesh's club descended, and darkness claimed him.

"Aaagh."

Jasper came with the worst hangover of his life. He'd never been much of a clubber, so he'd been a little bit of a lightweight, but the throb consuming his head was so overwhelming he could barely breathe. How much did I drink last night? For a brief moment, he tried to remember where he'd been and quickly abandoned the effort, realising that thought was simply too painful.

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"Eaurgh."

The sound of groaning sent a pulse of pain through his head. Shut up, he wanted to yell, but it wasn't worth the effort.

"Jasper."

He grunted unhappily as someone nudged his shoulder. "Go away, Jenny," he murmured. "Let me die in peace."

The person beside him sighed, but rubbed against his shoulder more forcefully. "Jasper, open your eyes."

He didn't want to, but if it was what it took to shut her up… It was more of a struggle to open his eyes than he'd expected. Something crusty, but still slightly wet, had nearly sealed them shut, and fresh jolts of pain shot through his head as he forced them open.

Am I…in jail? In his shaky vision, the rusty iron bars seemed to almost float in front of them, but he could tell they were buried in a white floor that looked a little too odd to be concrete.

"Jasper, can you move your hands at all? Can you cast a spell?" the woman next to him whispered.

A spell? He turned his head reluctantly to gaze at the woman leaning against him. Her long blonde hair was caked with blood, her face more bruise than flesh, and his mind stuttered to stop as he caught sight of the antlers peaking above her hair.

Oh. Hazy memories trickled back to him. "Ihra?"

"Thank Selene," she muttered. "You've been out for hours."

"I took a club to the head," he rasped out.

"So did I."

"Have you seen yourself?"

"Exactly," she replied promptly. "You look better than me."

Jasper just grunted in reply, his mind still a bit sluggish. Need…to cast…Circle. Somehow, he found the willpower to tug on his essence, but as he tried to wriggle his fingers, he found they wouldn't move. "Uh, Ihra."

Glancing down at his lap, he realized his hands were encased in two metal balls. "What the hell?"

"He's not going to be able to cast a spell," a low voice spoke from the other side. "His fingers are frozen in place inside those shackles, so until someone opens them up…" the woman sighed, not bothering to finish her sentence.

"Not all of us have given up, Nissilât," Ihra snapped. "We've gotten out of tougher situations."

Jasper leaned his head against the wall with a groan as their circumstances finally sank in. His hands were encased by the strange manacles, his legs shackled to the ground, and a cage of iron bars closed in around them. "Please tell me they didn't capture all of us."

His question was met with a damning silence. "Tsia?"

"She hasn't woken up yet," Ihra finally replied. "But she did a number on them before she went down. At least half of those bastards are dead, and most of the rest are injured. If you can break out of your bonds, we've got a good chance at escape, but we have to move fast, before that leader of theirs arrives."

"Just give it up," Nissilât scowled. "If there's anyone who has a chance of breaking us out of here, it should be the warrior of our party, but since you're clearly too weak-"

"If we could just get those chains off, I'm sure I could bend those bars-"

"Stop it." Jasper closed his eyes, begging the throbbing in his head to stop. "Ihra's right; I might be able to get us out of here."

"How?" Nissilât sneered. "Don't tell me you've wasted a bunch of points in strength?"

"Nope, can't even budge my fingers thanks to this damned contraption, but…" Jasper hesitated. He wasn't keen to reveal his ability to cast a spell without using his hands to Nissilât, not when he fully expected her to bail on their party as soon as they reached the Emperor, but Ihra was right. When they met the Ammatu, they wanted it to be on their terms, not hers. "A spell requires movement to ignite the essence, but it doesn't have to be cast with your hand."

"I've heard of a mage who learned how to cast with his toes," Nissilât replied slowly, "But we don't have time for you to figure it out. By all accounts, it's quite hard to learn-"

"I already know how to do it," he cut her off. "I can only cast one spell, nothing complicated, but maybe it'll be enough to get us out of here." He swiveled his head slowly, closing his eyes as the world spun around him. Got one hell of a concussion. "What do you think, Ihra - if I melt your shackles, could you get these damn cuffs off my hands?"

"I think," she smiled wryly, "that I'm not the fireproof one here."

"I'm not sure my fire immunity extends to molten metal," he lifted his globe-encased hands helplessly. "I mean…maybe? But I'd really hate to be wrong. I'm kind of attached to my hands."

"Oh." Unlike him, Ihra's hands weren't bound by the mage-orbs, but a pair of short shackles with only about a foot of chain kept them well out of reach of Jasper's hands. "I guess…we'll have to."

The two maneuvered awkwardly as Jasper tried to get into position. Ihra had very little range of movement, but the stoneflesh were - understandably - not worried about him physically breaking his shackles, so he had a bit more give in his chains. Stretching her chains out as far as they could go, Jasper placed himself between her and the bolt in the floor and reached for his essence.

The familiar pain blistered his mouth as the flames washed over the heavy iron chains, but he'd never held the spell for very long, and he'd underestimated how rapidly the pain would build. His skull felt like it was being cooked from the inside out as he vomited out the flames, his vision blurring as he stared at the metal.

The cold grey of the chains was taunting him, unchanging despite the torrent of fire rushing out of his mouth as a bitter realization sank in that his fire wasn't hot enough to melt the iron. Perhaps, if he had the strength to keep the spell going for several minutes, the chains would eventually soften, but given the rampantly increasing pain in his skull, Jasper was half-afraid he might accidentally kill himself in the process.

But if we don't escape now, we might not get another chance. A spark of desperation ignited in his belly as Jasper realized what he had to do. He didn't waste time hesitating as he reached for the endless pool of magic swirling around his soul. It was better than dying.

As his fire turned a bluish-white, the chains began to glow red. It was only few more seconds before the links lost their form and the molten metal carved sluggish rivers into the soft salt floor. Jasper felt wrung out in body and soul, but he had done it. Ihra was free.

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