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sparkling out from their fists, that was attracted to the nearest solid contacts. They controlled the small tingling threads of light to flow without jumping to themselves or to their fellow searchers. The strange hum caused by this was unnerving, and he hurried along to avoid it.
    Soon he was past many of the buildings and within view of the section of vine covered outer wall where the rope they had used to come in was still hanging. It had been found, and there was a knot of armored Rygan soldiers wearing red colored tabards with the crest of a black lion standing in an attack posture, which covered over their breast plates and chain mail. Several in the back sported halberds and great swords while the rest in the front formed a tight phalanx with shields and spears. To their sides, stood several wizards in blue robes using the small humming lightning fields while others in red brandished angry-looking, compressed fireball sparks in their hands like the one used to blast apart his friend back in the keep. If only he had killed his companion sooner when he knew he had to, he thought, then he might not be facing this problem. Next time he would be the wiser.
    Without dwelling on it further, he turned away, not wanting to be seen by this fierce-looking group when his shroud finally failed. He needed another way out. As he walked south along the inside of the outer wall, going back more or less parallel to the road leading to the keep, he tried to assess what his best option was.
    Every time he heard the humming sound come closer, apprehension gripped him fiercely and he nervously looked around. The nagging, rising panic, caused by the knowledge that his invisibility was nearing its end, was making it difficult to think clearly. He was overly anxious to leave in any way he could.
    He took a deep breath to try to calm himself, smelling the pleasant, fresh scent of grass and trees. The outer gate would be guarded, and he knew it would be poor if not impossible climbing to get over the metal bars. It would definitely be guarded in a similar way as the rope; they would never allow him to use that exit. That left him with no other choice than to attempt to climb out on another wall section. He didn’t even know if it could be done. He started running again since there was little time.
    Once he was far enough away from the knot of soldiers and wizards, as well as concealed by another building between them, he took a hard look at the vine covered wall. It stood at least three times as tall as he, and the vines didn’t seem too likely to support his weight for long without snapping. If they were disturbed, they might give him away. He had no choice but to try. He briefly gave thought to using his magic on them to strengthen them in some way but couldn’t risk it. It would destroy what was left of his slowly weakening shroud. If he was seen, death would be immediate.
    He looked around and backed up a good number of steps so he could get a running start. He put the quill pen in his mouth and bit down, clenching his teeth tightly so it wouldn’t fall out. Flexing his hands and taking a few nervous breaths to ready himself, he charged ahead at full speed. When he came close, he jumped and used his foot to try to catch the wall to jump himself up higher. At the apex of his leap, he grabbed tightly a wad of the vines, hoping that enough of them together could hold him. They did for the moment, but he could feel them stretching and being pulled apart. He quickly grabbed another bundle up higher and resumed his climb. The rustling of the disturbed leaves and stems still hadn’t revealed him yet. When he got near the top, they had taken all the strain they could and were starting to break. Desperately, he reached his hands to grip on the stone edge and tried with all his might to pull himself up. He could only get himself so high before he had to reach over the top and desperately grab hold of more of the vines. He pulled and pulled until