Tal no longer answered the taunts. The old man nattered on without encouragement, secure in the safety of his own cell.
Tal reached through the barred window. With a stretch, he could barely put his fingers on the cobblestones of the alley. There was plenty of room for Chaney to slip through, if Tal could pull out two of the bars. Unfortunately, they were set deeply into the stone casement, not just bolted to the wall. Tal,put both hands on one, then walked up the wall on his knees. Firmly braced, he pulled outward with all his strength.
The bars did not even bend. After a few minutes, Tal dropped back down to the floor.
"It's getting dark," he observed after catching his breath. Chaney didn't answer. It was hard to tell by looking into the alley just how close it was to dusk. Tal began to pace, just as Chaney had done earlier. With his longer stride, he could take only three steps in each direction.
"Would you stop that?" asked Chaney at last.
"Sure," said Tal. He tested the cell door for the hundredth time, hoping it would prove weaker than the window bars.
"You can stop that, too," said Chaney. "I've got a headache."
Tal sighed and let go of the door. Then he cocked his head. "Did you hear that?"
"What?" said Chaney. He rose from the cot and gently felt his back with both hands.
"Someone just called my name," he said, moving to the window. He heard it again.
"Here!" he shouted through the barred window. "I'm over here!"
Feena dropped to her hands and knees beside the low opening.
"There's no bail coming," she said breathlessly.
"I know," said Tal. "I didn't expect the magistrate to allow it."
"But he did," said Feena. "Eckert got money from your mother-but we'll discuss that later. First, we get you out of here."
"There's no time," said Tal. "Go to the guards and make them let Chaney out of this cell."
"No time for that, either. Stand back," said Feena. "But-" Tal thought better of protesting and took a step back. Behind him, Chaney began muttering a string of prayers to Tymora, goddess of luck.
Feena grasped a bar in both hands and pushed. Tal expected to see her cast a spell for inhuman strength or to turn the metal bars molten hot. But instead of invoking Selune, Feena shook her head violently, like a horse tossing its mane. She grimaced and stretched her neck as if it hurt. "It's no good," said Tal. "I've tried that-" Feena's eyes flashed red.
"Look out!" cried Chaney, but Tal was transfixed by the sight. Feena's fair freckled skin was now covered in downy russet fur. Her bared teeth were growing long and narrow in her elongating jaws.
"Get back," warned Chaney. "It's a werewolf disguised as Feena!"
"No," said Tal. He put his hands on either side of Feena's and pulled as she pushed. "It's her, all right. I can smell her."
"But if she's changing, then when will you-?" He stopped as he saw Tal's face, which was covered with fine black fur.
"Pull!" said Feena. Her voice had fallen half a register. "But concentrate on the bar. Don't think about anything else, Tal. Listen to me! Pull the bar. I'll help you break the bar."
"Dark and empty!" said Chaney. "Am I the only one here who doesn't turn into a wolf?"
"I don't," offered the drunk from across the aisle. "Shut up, both of you," snarled Feena. They obeyed, watching as the transforming werewolves strained to break the window bars. Tal and Feena bristled with fur, and rough claws jutted from their fingers. Tal's legs were changing shape, bending back in wolf fashion to end in clawed pads. He kicked away his useless boots, and his trousers fell after them.
"The bar, Tal!" roared Feena. "Pull the bar!"
Tal tried to answer, but his words became an inarticulate growl. His upper body was still human except for a thickening black pelt, but it was growing broader by the second. Tremendous muscles twitched and wriggled beneath his skin, still transforming as they struggled to break the bars.
The bar came away with a clatter of stone. Before Tal could put his hands on the next, Feena was already pushing. Her face was more wolf than woman now, but she could still speak.
"Pull!"
Together, they ripped the second bar from the wall. There was still too little space for Tal's big form to pass through. Feena grabbed the third bar, but Tal turned toward Chaney.
His face was almost completely unrecognizable now, with a long lupine snout and blazing red eyes. His own long hair formed a shaggy mane that blended with the fur of his sloping shoulders. Panting, he reached toward Chaney.
"The bars, Tal! You have to pull at the bars!" Feena repeated. "Come back to the window!"
With a yelp, Chaney tried to dart away. He was too slow, and the werewolf's clawed hands gripped him by the arms.
"Help me, Feena!" Chaney called.
"Tal!"
Chaney struggled but could not resist the powerful hands that lifted him from the floor and swung him around to the window. In one graceful gesture, Tal shoved Chaney through the narrow aperture and into the alley with Feena.
Behind him, Tal heard the guards calling out. The drumming pulse in his head scrambled the meaning of their words, but the clinking of their keys told him they were coming through the door. His shirt had torn, but it twisted uncomfortably at his shoulders. He ripped it away as easily as he might shred a leaf.
Outside, Chaney scrambled to his feet. He cradled his injured ribs, then turned to try to help with the bars.
"Run," said Tal. His voice was barely understandable, deep and stony as a dry well. "Ruuun!"
"Go!" said Peena.
She put her hands on the next bar, and Tal's joined hers. As they struggled with the bars, Chaney limped to the end of the alley. He paused only until he saw them break away the third bar. At the sound of guards running toward the alley, he bolted at last, finding cover in the twilight shadows.
The guards were inside the jail block now. "Get the crossbows!" shouted one as his companion fumbled with the key to Tal's cell.
"Silver bolts!" ordered another from the relative safety of the outer door.
At last, Tal and Feena broke the fourth bar away. Wielding it like a baton, Tal banged it against the cell door. The guards leaped back, and the one with the keys dropped them as he shouted in alarm. Tal threw the window bar at them, then jumped up into the open window.
Feena grasped his arms and pulled, but Tal's broad shoulders could not pass through the window. He struggled to squeeze himself through the narrow gap. The ragged holes left by the bars scraped at his flesh, cutting him even through his fur.
Tal wriggled and twisted, gaining only a few inches before the twang of a crossbow sounded behind him. He felt something slap his thigh and fought harder to push through the cell window.
Tal's struggling caused Feena to lose her grip. She fell back onto the alley floor. As her shadow fell away from Tal, moonlight spilled onto his face. It felt like cool water, washing him from head to feet. As the sensation ran through his body, he felt all his flesh shift and remold itself. His hands became paws scratching for traction on the stone alley floor, and his slenderer trunk barely slipped through the window, leaving wet patches of bloody fur behind.
As a wolf on four legs, Tal stood nearly as tall as Feena in her half-wolf form. She bowed her head and shifted completely back to human shape just as the reinforcements blocked the alley's mouth.
Tal turned to snarl a warning at the guards. There were four of them, three aiming crossbows with silver-tipped bolts. Feena›was talking to them, but Tal could not understand her words. He perceived the barest motion of the Scepters' weapons and smelled the sour fear in their sweat. Then he smelled something strange, a clean white energy emanating from Feena. It blew like a cool breeze to engulf the bowmen. As it washed over them, they stood stock still.
Feena said a word to Tal, and though he could not understand it, he thought the command was "run." Human language was strange to his ears, but it was becoming clearer as his blood slowed. Then Feena crouched low, transforming from woman to half-wolf to full wolf in a matter of moments. She wriggled out of her fallen clothes. Only the silver talisman of Selune remained secure on a chain around her neck.