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certain how to respond. By the second gunshot, and the sounds of a scuffle upstairs, the barkeep took off his apron, let himself out of the bar, and strolled out the door. And by the third Jules jumped up.
    He stood in the center of the tavern as patrons began to hurry outside. Just beyond the main door he saw the red uniforms of Shandow's royal guard rushing toward Hattie's. An entire second unit.
    As the last woman darted out the door, he slammed it shut and barred it with a heavy table procured from the center of the room.
     
    * * * * *
    A soldier grabbed one of Opal's splints and threw him backward. He stumbled, emitting a scream of pain, unable to quell it. The pain radiated up his arm. For a moment he cradled his right hand in the crook of his left arm, much to the amusement of the soldier. He came toward Opal and slammed the butt of his smoking pistol against the dandy's free hand.
    The highwayman shrieked as he turned away from his assailant, looking for somewhere to hide, but it was a very small room with a bed and one window. He scrambled across the bed and slammed into the glass with his shoulder.
    Cameo was pinned down by four soldiers who lifted her off her feet and were hefting her out of the room.
    "She's strong!" one complained as she shoved him into the doorframe.
    "She's not human."
    "We should kill her now."
    Suddenly, the man who had been holding her arm tightly had a bloody sword sticking from his chest, and then it was gone. Confused, he collapsed, and she grabbed the sword hilt of a man clutching one leg, and then the man holding her other arm perished silently. With no one now holding up her shoulders, she fell back, and there, directly in front of her face, were a pair of black boots.
    The other soldiers dropped her lower half to the ground, and she felt her body meet the wooden floor with a shocking thud , but she pulled herself to her feet just as rapidly, with supernatural speed.
    A tall, imposing figure dressed in black looked back at her from within the room. Cameo had single-handedly taken out eleven of Shandow's royal guard. He stood amidst the corpses.
    Their eyes met.
    She had blood spattered across her face.
    "You sounded like you needed help," Jules glanced away and down at the littered floor.
    "Haffef wanted you to keep me safe?" she scoffed, moving into the room. Opal had crumbled onto the bed and was sitting with his back to them now, and she walked protectively to his side.
    "No," he said softly.
    She met Jules' eyes again. He was standing motionless in the center of the room.
    "There's another brigade outside the front door."
    Cameo turned and kicked out the window.
    Opal silently cursed himself for bothering to batter the opaque glass with his shoulder, which was now injured and bleeding.
    "We're only on the second floor," she said, addressing Jules as she gathered up her shoulder-pack, and then moved back over to assist Opal. "The climb isn't bad at all."
    "Is that an invitation?" he hissed.
    She climbed out the window, carrying Opal. "Do I have a choice in the matter?"
    Jules was now in motion. He crossed the room with supernatural grace. "No, I guess not."
     
    * * * * *
    Opal awoke with a start. He'd been dreaming of some long-forgotten lady, and then, as the dream progressed, he noticed his hands were beginning to ache, and he said as much to the young lady in his dream, and then the dream faded, and he opened his eyes. Pain shot up his fingers and seemed to be ebbing up his arms, throbbing. He tipped his head back—chin pointing to the ceiling—which was black. He had no idea where he was. He tried to remember how he had gotten wherever it was he was, and whom he was with.
    He sat up. The point of a sword poked him in the chest. He followed the sword's point up the blade until he found the man holding it.
    It was Jules. He was sitting in a dark corner, with the slender light from a tiny, barred window lighting his face and a sliver of his body. He seemed displeased.
    "I could