The team absconds with the horses. Cang rides behind Fassn, careful not to catch a wing to the face, while the others select mounts of their own. Shyan rides a chestnut mare, Abia a charcoal stallion, with Cang and Fassn atop a young roan.
They burst from the stable, urging the horses onward, encouraging haste. The innkeeper, stablehand, and rightful owners of the horses emerge into the muddy streets, throwing fists and curses after the team as they hurry away.
It’s less than an hour before they come upon a trail of dust thrown up from the road, slow and lazy in settling. Shyan squints and spots a wagon at the head of the dusty column, and nods resolutely at her companions when she spies the alchemical crates loaded upon it. With a yelp, she picks up her pace, her friends following.