Wrapped in the post-midnight ambiance of the Siremirian wilds, the barghest padded softly into the canyon. The lack of a fresh departure trail told him they were likely still here, unless the far end offered another way out. With each step, further evidence of their activity reached his nose. All seven had repeatedly crisscrossed the surrounding forest floor on foot—several elves, including a drow, and one half-human; a gnome, a halfling, and a bipedal humanoid with some cat-like heritage. Interesting. Fifty yards off the road, his enhanced vision took in the rear of the cut. A steep, rocky cliff closed off the back of the area, no escape. Four horses stood, tied off near the back wall, next to something that didn’t belong here—a dome-shaped structure, unquestionably magical.

  The creature cocked its head. This changed his approach. Waiting them out would likely mean facing the entire group. Instead, he would need to lure them from their protective bubble, ideally one at a time. Spooking the horses might do the trick. Even if he only killed one tonight, then disappeared back into the shadows to follow and watch, that was good enough. With time on his side, the barghest stepped closer, surveying the layout in search of the perfect ambush point.

  When Tsuta’s mind pinged with Glynfir’s warning, he placed his hand on Bird’s shoulder, giving the tabby a confirming nod when he turned his head. Repeating the silent announcement to Iskvold and Lunish, Bird held one furry finger up to his lips before making a downward pressing motion in the air with both hands, reminding them to sit tight. A minute later, the wizard’s second message, only two words, whispered in Tsuta’s brain:

  He’s in!

  Two taps on the tabby’s shoulder told him it was time to move. He flexed his toes and quads to shake off the dull ache of two hours crouched behind the granite boulder, looking back at the others after the dull pop of Lunish’s Pass Without Trace spell crackled in his ears. With a split-fingered gesture towards his eyes and another at his chest, the cat rose silently before tiptoeing gingerly toward the road, pointing emphatically at his chosen footfall locations. Making almost no sound, the four emerged onto the trail.

  In two hand gestures, Bird spread them in a line across the opening, he and Lunish in the middle, and the monks on the flanks. With one final signal, they began to creep forward, hemming their pursuer into the gently narrowing rocky crevice.

  Segwyn slowly rose onto one knee, eyes trained on the forest floor below. From his position atop the ravine wall, he, like Glynfir, could clearly see the barghest advancing toward the hut, and his friends quietly closing in from behind. In a single smooth motion, he nocked an arrow and drew. The bowstring’s tension pressed against his cheek. He held the shot, waiting for the others to either close the distance on the ground or their quarry to spook. The muffled snap of a twig brought the creature’s head up instantly in alarm. He loosed the string, burying the first arrow behind its front shoulder. By the time it struck, a second was already in the air. Across the cut, five red darts sprang to life from Glynfir’s position. Crisscrossing trajectories sped through the darkness, pummeling the canine’s opposite flank.

  The barghest howled in pain, stumbling, as it turned toward four rushing attackers who dropped all pretense of stealth when the first volley landed. Before his eyes, the tiny running gnome, amidst a sparkle of green, transformed into a great brown bear, the forest floor rumbling with each lunging footfall. Flanked by the cat creature wielding two glinting katanas and two monks, he realized his mistake and the severity of the situation.

  From the corner of his eye, something moved up on the ridge to his left. Of course, the others were on the high ground around the upper lip of the ravine, including a wizard, the softest of direct combat targets. Maybe he could avert disaster and still salvage a positive outcome. In a flash of white, he cast Dimension Door. A shimmering arcane rectangle materialized between him and the oncoming attackers. Without hesitation, the barghest surged through the portal, and with a crackling snap, both vanished.

  In the same second, up on the rocky lip, the white rectangle flashed to life, a few feet to Glynfir’s right, leaving him entirely flat-footed as the streaking charcoal canine form emerged at a dead run towards him, red eyes flashing, jaws agape. Two more arrows from across the canyon pierced the creature’s hide, but it barely noticed as it bore down on the wizard, suddenly exposed and alone.

  Grabbing for the block of amber in his pocket, Glynfir quickly spat out the incantation, turned invisible, and dove to his right before making a break for a large pile of deadfall back from the gully’s edge. He needed to buy some time. Otherwise occupied, he assumed, but didn’t see his friends scrambling to adjust to the creature’s unanticipated tactics. Bird raced across the canyon floor. Claws extended, he leapt into the air, sticking fast to the rocky wall before starting to climb. Lunish shifted from bear to sparrow before hurtling skyward. Iskvold let out a roar of frustration, tamping down the burning rage boiling in her belly before summoning her Ki, and, in a flash of white energy, raced back toward the road, and her only navigable path to the rim. Tsuta alone held his ground, pulling the copper wire from his pocket, composing a quick message to the wizard.

  The barghest leapt over a fallen log, bracing for impact when he saw Glynfir start to cast, but none came. Instead, his prey’s appearance shifted across his optical spectrum. Before attempting to flee, the wizard had turned invisible, unaware that invisibility was irrelevant to his magical vision. Altering course, the barghest promptly ran down his prey.

  Its claws raked his back, tearing robe and flesh, causing Glynfir to cry out in stunned agony, before the creature’s jaws snapped closed on his shoulder. The wizard fought desperately to get away, twisting against his attacker’s weight and force. At the edge of his vision, a green flash, and suddenly Lunish was there, racing forward, brandishing a dagger. The creature easily avoided the blade before shouldering her aside. In the distance, the sound of heavy footfalls through dried leaves told him others were coming, but they might be too late; he was running out of steam.

  When Tsuta’s message reached him, Glynfir lay flat on his back, pinned beneath the barghest’s superior size. Drops of saliva fell onto his face as he gazed up into flaring red embers, and a gaping maw of stained, jagged fangs.

  I can’t get there fast enough, staying put. You need to bring him back here.

  Time slowed to a crawl. Glynfir could feel sticks and leaves clinging to the exposed wounds on his bloodied back. His right arm began to shudder, desperately holding the creature's snapping jaws at bay. His left arm hung limp, shoulder screaming in pain. The warm wetness soaked his robes, sending a shiver down his back as his blood cooled in the midnight air. Two arrows whizzed over his attacker’s broad shoulders, difficult shots for any archer from that distance through the tree cover. Looming over him, an arcane twinkle swirled to life around the barghest’s muzzle, causing it to expand unnaturally wide, exposing an aperture that shouldn’t be possible.

  In a moment of lucidity, the bald monk’s words echoed.

  ‘…bring him back here.’

  With labored breath, the wizard rasped out the words of the incantation. Thankfully, this spell required neither material components nor hand gestures. As the last syllables wheezed from his lips, his own shimmering white rectangle slithered to life between his back and the forest floor. In the same moment, with every ounce of his remaining strength, he rolled onto his bloodied shoulder, crying out in pain and conviction. He dropped the faltering resistance in his right arm, grabbing a fistful of charcoal fur and skin instead. The creature pitched forward from the unexpected shift, its distended jaws snapping beside his ear as Glynfir fell through the dimension door, momentum and his desperate grip dragging his attacker with him.

  Receiving no reply to his message, Tsuta, back on the canyon floor, took his holy symbol in one hand and began casting the spell. Without a nearby target, he would have to hold the energy and hope his friend could act on the suggestion before he was forced to either cast the spell or drop it. Without knowing how or where to direct the magic, he stood ready, hands crackling with a white glow as the mental fuse in his brain ticked down. Come on, Mustache!

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  In a flash to his left, a white rectangle stretched into existence four feet above the ground, before expelling the wizard and the creature violently onto the forest floor below with a dull thud. Glynfir groaned as he hit the ground beneath the falling weight of his attacker. Tsuta reacted immediately. With a flourish, he released the spell. A twisting maelstrom of yellow energy motes spiraled from his outstretched hand, swirling around the barghest. The creature let out a howl, its back arching from the magic’s constriction, before it turned to face this new threat. With a shake of its head, the yellow blizzard fizzled and dispersed, and the barghest stepped menacingly toward the bald monk. When his spell failed, Tsuta was forced to pivot quickly into a defensive posture. Tossing the holy symbol into the air, the monk crouched low, feet spread wide, both hands on the quarterstaff. Silence fell as the two combatants stood toe to toe. The only sound was the faint crunch of his necklace hitting the leaf litter, next to the wounded wizard.

  On the rocky hillside above, Bird came to a skidding halt at Glynfir’s former position, momentarily surprised by the sudden disappearance. Cursing under his breath, he reached out to Lunish, giving the gnome a hand up from the ground before a white flash on the canyon floor caught his attention.

  “They’re back down by the hut.” He growled at Lunish. “We have to hustle, or we’ll miss all the fun.”

  The gnome shook her head. “I can’t shift again without some rest. We won’t get there in time.”

  The tabby quickly looked her up and down. “I have an idea, though it’s gonna seem a little weird.”

  Lunish spread her arms, eyebrows raised, silently urging him to continue.

  Bird dropped down onto all fours. “You’ll have to ride me.”

  The gnome’s head recoiled at his words before repeating them incredulously,

  “Ride you?”

  The cat shot her a mildly annoyed look. “Yes, I can move much faster this way, and you’re small enough for me to carry. Now, just get on my back and hold onto the collar of my cape.”

  Lunish didn’t move, her gaze fixed, face etched with uncertainty.

  “There’s no time for this. Don’t think about it, just get on!” he urged.

  Begrudgingly, the gnome climbed onto his back, bunching his hood into a two-handed grip, and Bird took off down the hill toward the road with blinding speed, kicking up clods of earth and dried leaves in his wake. Halfway down, they passed Iskvold, still travelling uphill. The drow stopped dead, unable to process the sight of the tabby, galloping down the hill on all fours with Lunish bouncing uncomfortably on his back.

  “They teleported back to the Hut!” the druid called over her shoulder as they passed.

  “Gondammit!” Iskvold muttered under her breath before turning on her heel and racing after them.

  Tsuta and the barghest slowly circled each other in measured steps, each waiting for their opponent to make the first move, before the sound of bagpipes broke the silence. As the notes of an upbeat sea shanty bounced off the canyon walls, Tsuta felt the rush of magical inspiration swell within him. A glance toward the canyon’s back wall told him the Hut was gone, with Whydah, now standing next to the tethered horses, pipes in hand, playing into the surrounding darkness.

  An arcane cloud of red flecks sparkled around him as the barghest pointed its front claw, growling in a throaty rasp. “What are you afraid of, elf?”

  Tsuta ‘s skin went cold and clammy, disturbing images flashing before his eyes as the Fear spell probed his mind, searching for a sufficient nightmare to manifest, just as it had during the last battle with the Sklir. This time, however, buoyed by the harsh melody of Whydah’s sea shanty, he shook it off. “Certainly not some hellhound wannabe, though I’m not particularly fond of large social gatherings,” he taunted, directing the quarterstaff stiffly against the creature’s shoulder. The barghest howled in fury and frustration, lunging forward. Its jaws closed around his thigh, knocking him backwards. The elf’s staff came up across the creature’s throat, holding it at bay.

  Suddenly, the barghest was surrounded by a torrent of white energy motes, forming a tight circle as they increased in speed. Its mouth gaped open in surprise as Tsuta peeked between its legs to see Glynfir on the ground, his hand outstretched, clutching the monk’s holy symbol. With a flash, the Banishment spell took hold. The barghest’s form blinked once, then disappeared. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but up close and personal with the creature’s goblinoid face, Tsuta swore its vicious hatred twisted into a wry smile of satisfaction just before it vanished.

  Glynfir collapsed. Eyes closed, breath coming in shallow rasps, he focused all his concentration on completing the spell. A coughing laugh burst from his lips as Tsuta’s healing magic coursed through him, and he opened his eyes to find Whydah, looming over his body, squinting down through the darkness.

  Her face was ashen. “You okay, Glynnie?”

  “Better every second,” he giggled. “As long as he keeps that up!” The wizard pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Although I think I might be hallucinating.” He tipped his head over Whydah’s shoulder. “Am I the only one who sees Lunish riding Bird like a little feline pony?”

  Tabby and gnome skidded to a halt by his side before Lunish quickly dismounted with a shiver, shooting a look of discomfort around the group before turning to face Bird. “Let’s never speak of that again.”

  A distant voice from the top of the ridge shouted “Ho!” before Segwyn glided into view, clutched snuggly in the claws of a massive giant owl with a thirty-foot wingspan. After setting him down gently, the bird, over fifteen feet at the shoulder, stood quietly at the ranger’s side, blinking repeatedly, its head twitched right, then left, taking them all in.

  Tsuta broke the stunned silence, looking at Whydah. “When you said giant, you weren’t kidding!”

  “You couldn’t have sent him over to give me a hand?” Glynfir teased, still chuckling as Tsuta healed his wounds.

  Segwyn shook his head. “Sorry, honestly, I forgot about him until just now.”

  Iskvold was the last to arrive, her gaze fixed curiously on the owl as she joined the others. “Well, that didn’t go the way we intended.”

  Bird shook his head. “Like I told you all before, everyone has a plan until they get a dagger in the ribs, but we managed to improvise.”

  “Barely!” Lunish challenged him. “Why didn’t we anticipate the demon dog could teleport? It nearly cost Glynnie his life!”

  “I don’t think it was a demon,” Segwyn said softly. “Despite the glowing red eyes.”

  “I never got a good look at it, but what makes you say that?” Whydah asked.

  The ranger pressed his lips tightly together before responding. “Most demons that I know about can’t cast Dimension Door, and it made a very intelligent tactical choice evading our ambush and going after you.” He gave the wizard, now in a seated position, an up nod. “That’s not the kind of skill or behavior I was taught to expect from the masses that inhabit the lower planes.”

  Tsuta looked up from his healing focus. “There was also a moment, just as the spell took hold, where I swear it smiled, like it knew it was being banished, and was somehow happy about it.” His attention returned to the injured patient with a shrug. “I wouldn’t be pleased about going back to The Abyss after spending any time here. I understand it’s a pretty miserable existence.”

  Bird delivered a playful punch to the bald monk’s shoulder. “For someone who is so socially clueless, that’s a pretty subtle observation, Stick. After all this time, you continue to surprise me!”

  “Regardless,” the wizard began, “the spell has completed, and he won’t be returning. Whatever plane of existence he hails from now has him back.” He looked at Tsuta. “I’m good now, thanks.”

  With a nod, the bald monk’s magical energy dissipated from his hands, and he stepped back.

  The wizard held his gaze. “By the way, what made you toss me your holy symbol? That was a stroke of genius! I couldn’t cast Banishment without it.”

  Tsuta returned the look, deadpan. “Your magic is stronger than mine. After I failed once, I thought you’d have a better chance of success.”

  Glynfir’s jaw dropped open in feigned surprise. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you clearly. Do you mind repeating that?” A playful grin spread across his face.

  Tsuta’s eyes narrowed. “Besides, I knew even you weren’t dumb enough to overlook the most obvious way to deal with that creature, Mustache.” The corners of his mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. “And I remembered you having to borrow Pinky’s back on the hillside with the Sklir.” The bald monk shrugged one shoulder. “I’m just glad you figured it out in time, or we were both screwed.”

  Segwyn slapped his thighs emphatically. “Well then, I think that calls for a celebratory drink! I’ll fetch the jug!”

  He started to walk toward the previous location of the hut and his pack when Iskvold cut him off. “Do you mind doing something about your new friend over here?” She tipped her head toward the towering, silent owl, standing unconcerned nearby. “He kinda freaks me out a bit.”

  The ranger turned back with a chuckle, “As you wish.” He looked up at the bird’s saucer-like black pupils. “Ho!” It disappeared in a flash, replaced by a tiny green figurine on the ground where he stood. The ranger tucked the statuette into his pocket. “Did anyone remember to bring any cups for the wine?” The blank looks from his friends told him everything he needed to know. “Oh well.” He shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to drink it hobo style tonight and just pass the jug around.”

  The gnome rounded quickly on Glynfir. “You hear that, Glynnie? That means you keep your lips off the spout, and no backwashing!”

  “Sounds like there’s a bit more to that story!” Whydah quipped before Lunish delivered an epic eyeroll, triggering the sound of gentle laughter to bounce off the canyon walls.

  The Glimmerstone Enigma and The Siremirian Conundrum?

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