and saw Pastor White, clutching his bible.
"As if things weren't bad enough," muttered Fitch to Susanna.
"Quickly," shouted Hartwell, looking speculatively at the trembling pastor. "We're leaving. Madrigal, can you summon those lightning bolts again?"
"I think so, Captain," said Madrigal, looking in a mixture of fear and bewilderment at his fingers.
"Then blow that wall down," commanded Hartwell, gesturing at the wall around the door.
Fleetwood's crew looked at Madrigal, looked at the rotting wooden wall and leapt back as Madrigal raised his hands.
Once again, a series of pulses erupted from Madrigal's hands, making him yell in pain as his fingers burned before immediately healing over. The wall blew backward, spilling Fleetwood's men out over the floor of the balcony and showering them with flaming timber and splinters.
Hartwell led his crew out. Pandemonium had broken out in the main drinking area of the inn as the room above exploded. Some were screaming, some running, a great many were taking advantage of the confusion to slit a throat or steal a purse, but an ominous silence fell as Hartwell and his crew emerged through the smoking hole.
"Demons!" they shouted. "Kill the demons!" A roar of approval and encouragement went up from the crowd as they picked up swords and bludgeons and ran to the stairs.
"That makes it easier," said Hartwell. "No innocent bystanders to worry about. Madrigal, your lightning, please." He gestured as he spoke to the men and women pounding up the staircase toward them.
Madrigal held out his hands and the power surged through, smashing the mob backward and igniting the wooden stairs. The flames spread astonishingly quickly around the inn, burning brightly and hungrily.
"Sorry," said Madrigal in answer to Hartwell's eyebrow of admonishment. "I didn't expect it to be that powerful."
Hartwell looked round and saw that the front of the inn had a large circular window set within it. "This way and somebody bring Lucky Pete," he shouted, leading the crew around the balcony. He paused briefly by the figure of Pastor White. "Are you coming with us, Pastor, or are you going to stay here and burn?"
White looked at the flames, the dead bodies and Captain Hartwell standing tall in the middle of the chaos and decided the cursed crew of Satan was the lesser evil when compared to staying in the burning inn. He pulled himself upright and staggered after them.
A few of the denizens were still ready to put up a fight and they stood between the window and the crew. As the crew drew closer, the denizens pulled small crossbows out from under their coats and grinned in anticipation.
"Let's see your demon powers reach us from this distance," said the leader.
"Yeah, our arrows will slice you freaks into pieces," snarled another.
Susanna moved to the front of the crew. "Challenge accepted," she said. She drew her arm back and hurled it forward, as though throwing a ball. The strange whip-like device appeared once more, somehow erupting from within her arm and streaking over the distance before lashing the leader in the face, who yelled in agony and fell back.
Madrigal simultaneously unleashed more of his lightning, this time controlling the flow more effectively.
The men screamed as the power hit them and released their arrows, which flew off in random directions.
"Move," ordered Hartwell, leading his crew to the window. "If you please, Madrigal," he added as they drew closer to the huge circular frame.
The window erupted outward under Madrigal's improving skill and the crew leapt out onto the front porch. From there, it was a short drop to the ground, where another problem was waiting.
"I can't see anything," cursed Madrigal. "The moon's gone in and with no street lights, we'll never get back through those alleys to the ship."
"I think I can
"As if things weren't bad enough," muttered Fitch to Susanna.
"Quickly," shouted Hartwell, looking speculatively at the trembling pastor. "We're leaving. Madrigal, can you summon those lightning bolts again?"
"I think so, Captain," said Madrigal, looking in a mixture of fear and bewilderment at his fingers.
"Then blow that wall down," commanded Hartwell, gesturing at the wall around the door.
Fleetwood's crew looked at Madrigal, looked at the rotting wooden wall and leapt back as Madrigal raised his hands.
Once again, a series of pulses erupted from Madrigal's hands, making him yell in pain as his fingers burned before immediately healing over. The wall blew backward, spilling Fleetwood's men out over the floor of the balcony and showering them with flaming timber and splinters.
Hartwell led his crew out. Pandemonium had broken out in the main drinking area of the inn as the room above exploded. Some were screaming, some running, a great many were taking advantage of the confusion to slit a throat or steal a purse, but an ominous silence fell as Hartwell and his crew emerged through the smoking hole.
"Demons!" they shouted. "Kill the demons!" A roar of approval and encouragement went up from the crowd as they picked up swords and bludgeons and ran to the stairs.
"That makes it easier," said Hartwell. "No innocent bystanders to worry about. Madrigal, your lightning, please." He gestured as he spoke to the men and women pounding up the staircase toward them.
Madrigal held out his hands and the power surged through, smashing the mob backward and igniting the wooden stairs. The flames spread astonishingly quickly around the inn, burning brightly and hungrily.
"Sorry," said Madrigal in answer to Hartwell's eyebrow of admonishment. "I didn't expect it to be that powerful."
Hartwell looked round and saw that the front of the inn had a large circular window set within it. "This way and somebody bring Lucky Pete," he shouted, leading the crew around the balcony. He paused briefly by the figure of Pastor White. "Are you coming with us, Pastor, or are you going to stay here and burn?"
White looked at the flames, the dead bodies and Captain Hartwell standing tall in the middle of the chaos and decided the cursed crew of Satan was the lesser evil when compared to staying in the burning inn. He pulled himself upright and staggered after them.
A few of the denizens were still ready to put up a fight and they stood between the window and the crew. As the crew drew closer, the denizens pulled small crossbows out from under their coats and grinned in anticipation.
"Let's see your demon powers reach us from this distance," said the leader.
"Yeah, our arrows will slice you freaks into pieces," snarled another.
Susanna moved to the front of the crew. "Challenge accepted," she said. She drew her arm back and hurled it forward, as though throwing a ball. The strange whip-like device appeared once more, somehow erupting from within her arm and streaking over the distance before lashing the leader in the face, who yelled in agony and fell back.
Madrigal simultaneously unleashed more of his lightning, this time controlling the flow more effectively.
The men screamed as the power hit them and released their arrows, which flew off in random directions.
"Move," ordered Hartwell, leading his crew to the window. "If you please, Madrigal," he added as they drew closer to the huge circular frame.
The window erupted outward under Madrigal's improving skill and the crew leapt out onto the front porch. From there, it was a short drop to the ground, where another problem was waiting.
"I can't see anything," cursed Madrigal. "The moon's gone in and with no street lights, we'll never get back through those alleys to the ship."
"I think I can
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