Roland wasn't surprised to see Fox over his shoulder. If anything, he was surprised Fox hadn't gotten to them earlier. That creature knew his way into the Undercity, probably had both of their scents, and was a great deal sneakier than any other thief in the Whispers.

He watched as Holsley gathered himself and foolishly ran onto the decaying rope bridge that crossed the chasm of endless uncertainty. Fox followed quickly behind him. Roland let out a yelp of pain. The distraction had given the scar-faced human an edge and his hand had felt the keen sting of a dagger.

It was time to do something quick, something clever, and something drastic.

Roland dug his heels into the ground and brought up a flurry of slashes against his underskilled opponents. Up to this point, he had been playing defensively, now he needed to get it done. Roland focussed on the human and let a few of the gnome's attacks through. A few small cuts were the price to pay. The blonde-haired man held his own for maybe a few seconds before Roland's rapier found its way through.

The stranger yelped, a fierce slash cutting straight across his arm.

'Are there more Whispers around here?' Roland barked the question and glanced across the bridge to the awaiting crushed cat steps. 'Especially up those stairs?'

'No,' the man choked up the word. 'Not as far as I know.'

'Good.'

Roland had never played chess. It took too much mental energy. People talked about it, though, and he considered himself a good listener. One such conversation he had overheard on a heist once was that sometimes it was better to wait than to attack. To allow the pieces on the board to position themselves of their own accord before you dove into the action.

While Roland had never once applied this lesson to his personal life, the advice was golden in the field of sword fighting. He remembered the conversation so vividly because he recognised it as the moment he had gone from being an amateur swordsman to a skilled one. Wait for the right opportunity. Wait for your opponents to position themselves perfectly.

That's what happened to the remaining untrained thieves before him.

Roland stepped into a dagger thrust from the blonde man, deflecting it with his stone hand. As he did this, the gnome lunged with his own dagger. Roland's rapier held it at bay and flicked it away. Then, Roland smashed his weapon's hilt into the man's face, waited a second, then spun low and swept the feet out from under the gnome.

The human and gnome both slammed into the ground. Hard. Roland gave each a quick kick to the head to knock them out and then turned his attention to the rope bridge. He cringed. Fox was on the attack against Holsley, who was, as usual, getting by with luck alone. Roland rushed forward into the next fray.

He doubled back and replaced his lost dagger with one of the fallen foes.

***

Holsley wasn't much of a fighter, but he'd learned a thing or two in tavern brawls. That's what happened when your music upsets so many people. You learn a thing or two about dodging blows. So, when Fox reached him on the bridge, Holsley spent a great deal of effort moving to and fro in an exaggerated grace.

'Give me the ring!' Fox bellowed.

The young bard genuinely considered handing it over there and then. In truth, he didn't really mind if he kept the ring or not. It had been useful for a while but was now becoming a thing that brought down a homicidal werefox whenever things were going right. Ultimately, he decided against it, just in case it proved useful again.

'I don't have it,' Holsley replied, stumbling backwards against the creaking wood of the rotten planks. 'I, uh, lost it!'

Fox tilted his head. 'I can see it on your finger.'

Oh, yeah, Holsley was still wearing it.

'This is a different ring.'

'You're a terrible liar.' Fox leapt at him, his black claws striking off the redrose lute first before bouncing off and cutting into the rope of the bridge. There was a lurch. The fight stopped momentarily for both of them to reclaim their balance.

'Could we pick somewhere else to do this?' Holsley asked. 'Literally anywhere.'

Fox brought both claws down as Holsley, once again, wielded the lute like a shield. Fox grabbed a hold of the sides of the instrument, his claws digging in. Holsley tugged at it. The lute was stuck fast in there werefox's grip. Fox turned Holsley's strength against him. He released the lute and, at the same time, barged Holsley backwards with his shoulder.

The bard let out a yelp before tumbling back.

If this was a century ago, the bridge probably would have caught him. Undoubtedly it would. This wasn't a hundred years ago, though. When Holsley fell back, he went straight through the shabby planks that formed the walkway below them. He screamed. He flailed. His right foot managed to slip into the rope and as he fell it twisted, wrapping itself around his ankle.

Holsley was left dangling over the abyss.

Fox knelt down with a toothy grin sprawled across his smug furry face. He drew one of the black claws beneath his fingernails and reached down to the rope that was securing Holsley. The werefox sawed at it. The rope began to fray. Holsley struggled, but he didn't have the strength necessary to lift himself back onto the bridge.

Twang. Twang. Twang. The rope uncoiled a little around his leg, dropping him half an inch. Another second and he'd be a goner. That's why he was eternally grateful when a dagger came flying out of nowhere to strike Fox in the palm before his claw could finish the rope off. Fox hissed, clutching his now wounded hand. Holsley let out a laugh.

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'That's the second time you've done that in like a minute!' he shouted. 'How are you so good at that?'

'Practice,' Roland said with a smile, rushing to the bard's rescue. 'Oh, and good aim.'

Roland met Fox with his rapier. The werefox hissed as his claws came up to deflect the attack. Suddenly, they were engaged in a fierce one on one. Even from an upside-down position beneath them, Holsley could tell they were equally matched. He watched, mouth agape, as Roland deflected a claw swipe with his stone hand. Sparks erupted from it.

Holsley needed to get out of here. He looked at his options. The young bard couldn't lift himself up by the stomach, but he might be able to reach one of the planks ahead on the bridge. If it was sturdy enough to support his weight, it might be easier for him to lift himself. Steadily, Holsley rocked and swung his body, pivoting on the rope tied at his ankle.

'You took a big risk coming down here,' Roland said, avoiding another glance of Fox's claws. 'She told me everything. I know you've been kicked out.'

'Did She tell you why?' Fox swiped with his claws; Roland jumped back.

'You tried to kill her.' Roland nodded. 'I don't understand why, though?'

'She deserves it,' replied Fox, coming back at him. Ting. The rapier met his claws. 'She abandoned me. They all did. When I finally got out of that dungeon, there was nothing here for me anymore. She was as cold as the room she keeps herself in.'

'You went to her about me, didn't you?'

Fox snarled. 'I just wanted some justice. She told me that you had been kicked out of the guild, stabbed in the back, but that you had survived. You got to go off and play pirates, while I was stuck playing prisoner.'

'This might be a good time to apologise to him,' Holsley called from below, reaching out for a plank at the end of his fingertips.

'I don't want an apology,' Fox growled. 'Not anymore.'

'You've got some real anger management issues, Fox.' Roland was forced back, then again. Hopping from plank to plank. 'Still. Holsley's right. I know it doesn't mean much, but I am sorry. I was as desperate to leave the guild as you were, and I was stupid.'

'Oh, spit on your apology.'

Fox doubled his resolve and managed to get through Roland's defences. One kick and the rogue was thrown again, rolling over himself. Thankfully, the planks remained intact, but the rapier had been caught between two of the planks in the roll. He was at least ten feet from it. Fox ignored the rapier, stepping over and sauntered towards the rogue.

'I didn't want you dead, not initially,' said Fox. 'I sat in my cell for the first few months and, oddly, I actually felt proud of what you'd done. In truth, I would have done the same. Then it became apparent that the Whispers weren't coming for me. That they'd abandoned me. I felt…used. I thought I had friends in the guild. Family. No, it's all a ploy.'

'I know the feeling.' Roland rose to his feet, breathless. 'I know what it's like to be used.'

'You don't know anything.'

Holsley tried to ignore the renewed clashing of claws as Roland desperately held off Fox's attack with his stone hand. Instead, he put his effort into reaching for a plank. A few more moments of swaying back and forth and he could finally reach it. With a grunt, he pulled himself up and wiggled his foot loose.

Fox really did have anger issues.

Roland was in trouble. Fox's attacks were coming in faster and faster. If it hadn't been for the creature's red fur, Holsley could have sworn he'd turned red. If he didn't do something quickly, his best friend would be a pile of ribbons.

Fox barrelled through Roland, who only had his stone hand to defend himself. Finally, after some effort, he managed to reach Roland's neck and squeeze. The rogue grimaced. Fox lifted him up in the air, licking his lips as if Roland were a fat, juicy rabbit. Roland batted at Fox's arms, but the werecreature wasn't about to lose his grip now.

'This isn't going to bring me as much pleasure as it should.' Fox tightened the grip. 'Still, it'll bring some—'

He stopped at the whistle.

Turning, Fox saw Holsley ahead on the bridge. Something glinted in between his fingers. The ring. Holsley was holding it over the edge of the bridge, dangling it above the never-ending chasm below.

'If you want to kill Roland,' Holsley warned. 'It'll cost you one ring.'

Fox snarled, easing the grip on the rogue's throat, but not completely giving him up. 'If you drop the ring, I'll kill Roland and then I'll kill you.'

'That's barely a threat.' Holsley rolled his eyes. 'You're going to kill me anyway.'

'H-holly,' Roland breathed. 'Just run. I've got this.'

Holsley gave him a wink.

'You know I saw that wink, right?' said Fox.

Holsley ignored him. Instead, he curled his fingers around the ring and threw it across the length of the bridge back the way they had come.

The next second felt like it stretched for an hour. Everything happened at once. Fox dropped Roland, his eyes on the ring and where it was heading. Roland, seizing the opportunity, dove past Fox and ran towards Holsley. Holsley, knowing there would be no better moment, rushed towards the other side of the bridge away from Fox.

Roland caught up to Holsley a second after the bard had reached the rocky outcropping on the other side. 'That wasn't the real ring, was it?'

'No,' Holsley replied. 'It was an illusion.'

'Cool.'

They looked across the bridge to Fox, who was stood about halfway over. He had caught the ring in his paws, but open uncurling his fingers, he found them empty. The fierce, red-eyed glare caught both of them off-guard. Their stomachs plunged. Fox pounced towards them. Claws ready.

'So, cut the rope?' Holsley offered.

'Yup.'

Roland flicked up the rapier and in two deft motions severed the rope bridge on this side of the rocky outcropping. To his credit, Fox had managed to get a decent way towards them, but even at that speed, he couldn't beat the collapse of the bridge. They watched as Fox dug his claws in, keeping secured as the bridge swung away and smacked into the rocky wall of the chasm.

Fox was trapped on the other side.

'That should buy us some time,' said Roland.

Together, they turned their back on Fox and made for the doorway to the stairs. Beyond, the stairs were in a disconcerting state. The stairway was littered with debris, some of which needed to be moved before they could even make a start on ascending, but it didn't seem impossible. They made the effort to escape. Soon, they were travelling upwards.

It took hours.

Sometimes they had to duck, other times they had to crawl, and rarely they had to pull one another through slight gaps in the stone. Of course Tiacat, who had made the journey over before either of them had set foot on the bridge, was a natural. They knew Fox wouldn't follow them, not with the bridge now gone

They took their first break about an hour in. Holsley sat there, casually stroking Tiacat's fur as she sat licking her paws next to him, while Roland sat in contemplation.

'I'm proud of you, Roland,' Holsley said when the silence wore too long. Roland glanced over at him, confused at first. 'For Fox. You apologised.'

Roland shrugged. 'I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't said.'

'That doesn't matter,' said Holsley. 'What matters is you did it. Same with Tyla. You could have easily ignored me.'

Roland didn't say anything.

Holsley sidled up a little closer, leaving Tiacat to grumble over the fact that she was no longer receiving affectionate pats.

'For the past few days, people have been telling me not to trust you,' Holsley said, grateful to finally admit it. 'That you'll stab me in the back.'

'Do you think they're right?'

'No,' replied Holsley, giving him a pat on the back. 'What you did there, Roland. Making amends. It proves them wrong. I was having my doubts, but now, I know for sure that I did the right thing coming to Tressa and risking my life. I don't know what happened with the pirates, or what's true and false with the rumours, but I do know you're a good person that doesn't deserve the noose.'

'That's nice of you to say,' replied Roland with a small smile. 'Shall we get going?'

'Yeah.' Holsley said, his smile fading a little. 'Let's see if we can find anything at the Smiling Bard.'

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