Justin joined the others at the front to find Templar Tiffany holding court with Lila, Eldrin, and Alistair. Tiffany's cool-eyed expression tightened slightly at his late entrance. He supposed he was anything but a model employee, but after banishing Belshar, he'd earned the right to sleep in. Tammy was already behind the counter with Rita, restocking potion displays, while Ilsa placed new inventory on the shelves.

"Now that everyone is here," Tiffany said crisply, "let's move this meeting to somewhere more practical."

Lila turned to Ilsa. "Can you run things for half an hour? We should be back soon."

Ilsa nodded without looking up from her work. "Of course, Miss Fairwind."

They followed Tiffany through the bustling streets of Belmora, where merchants were opening their shops and citizens were going about their daily routines. The golden morning light painted the white buildings in warm amber tones, and the air carried the smell of fresh bread from nearby bakeries.

Justin was recognized almost immediately.

"That's him!" a woman called out, pointing. "The Hero of Belmora!"

"He killed the Lich!" a child shrieked, tugging on his mother's sleeve.

Within moments, a small crowd began to gather, people emerging from shops and homes to catch a glimpse. Some bowed, while others stared with undisguised awe. A few brave souls reached out to touch his coat as if proximity to greatness might bring good fortune.

Then, from the back of the growing crowd, a young man with wild yellow hair made his way forward with alarming enthusiasm. He couldn't have been more than eighteen, with an eager, almost manic expression and eyes that gleamed with devotion.

"By Arion, by Arion, by Arion!" the youth exclaimed, practically bouncing. "You're the Hero of Belmora! I can't believe it's really you! Standing right here!"

Justin maintained his smile, though something about the young man's intensity made him take a half-step back. "That's me."

The young man nearly fainted at being so directly addressed by what he perceived to be divinity. "This is amazing! I've heard everything about you. The Lich, the fight on the drake, saving the Queen! Can I follow you? I could carry your things! Polish your cane! I'm your biggest fan!"

Lila covered her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh.

"That's... very kind," Justin managed, "but we're actually on urgent business—"

"I won't get in the way! I promise! I'll just watch! Maybe learn a thing or two!" The young man's grin widened impossibly further. "You won't even know I'm there!"

Tiffany's hand moved to her sword hilt, her expression darkening. "Stand aside, citizen."

The youth deflated slightly but didn't move. "Could I at least get your autograph? Please?"

Justin glanced at Tiffany, whose glare could have melted steel. The crowd was getting denser, more people pressing in to see what the commotion was about.

"Another time, perhaps," Justin said diplomatically, already moving to follow Tiffany, who had started pushing through the crowd.

"I'll find you!" the young man called after them, waving enthusiastically. "We're going to be best friends! I just know it!"

"The Six preserve us," Alistair muttered under his breath.

Once they'd put some distance between themselves and the crowd, Lila finally let out the laugh she'd been holding.

"Your 'biggest fan.' That's what fame gets you, I suppose."

"He seemed... enthusiastic," Eldrin said carefully.

"He seemed unhinged," Justin corrected. "Is that what I have to look forward to? Crazies like that following me around?"

"It's a hazard of the trade," Tiffany said without sympathy. "Heroes attract admirers. The devoted ones are often the worst, or so I hear. You shoud've seen Theric Wren in his prime."

Justin adjusted his coat, suddenly feeling less enthusiastic about public recognition. "Maybe subtlety wasn't such a bad idea after all."

"Too late for that now," Lila said, still grinning. "The Hero of Belmora has an adoring fan!"

He realized Lila and Tiffany were right. Fame was a double-edged sword.

When they crossed the threshold of Saint Muriel's Cathedral, the thick stone walls muffled the street noise to a distant murmur.

Inside, the morning light filtered through stained glass windows, casting colored patterns across the polished stone floor. Only a handful of parishioners knelt in prayer before the towering idol of Arion mounted above the front altar—a magnificent statue carved from white marble, the God of Power depicted mid-swing with a war hammer raised, phoenix flames wreathing the weapon. Behind it stretched a resplendent mural depicting a phoenix rising from flames, its wings spread wide in eternal resurrection.

Tiffany ignored the supplicants and the robed Priests tending candles. She headed directly toward a small door set discreetly in the northern wall.

Once unlocked, she descended a narrow stone staircase into the undercroft. The cramped quarters forced them into single file. Tiffany navigated a short corridor and stopped before an unmarked door. Another key. Another lock. She pushed it open to reveal a small, austere office.

The room was barely ten feet square, furnished only with a simple wooden desk, two chairs, and a single shelf holding ledgers and reports.

"My official office," Tiffany explained, closing the door behind them and gesturing for them to take what seats they could. She claimed the chair behind the desk while the others arranged themselves as best they could. "I'm hardly ever here, but it serves its purpose. The last thing I want is to lead your adoring fans straight to our actual safe house."

Lila gave a slight smile as Justin leaned against the wall. "This is what happens when you work with a celebrity, I'm afraid."

She ignored the quip and cut straight to business. "Now I can share what little we've learned regarding Valdrik's movements." Her tone was clipped, efficient. "Yesterday evening, I dispatched Paladins Galand and Tristan to the Belmoran Gate with all speed. By this morning, High Priest Kaive has learned everything and is already organizing an assault on Valdrik's mansion in Silverton."

She paused, her expression darkening slightly.

"The Paladin brothers didn't remain long enough to await news from Silverton, so the situation there remains uncertain. However, it's clear that Kaive means to strike within the day. Time is of the essence."

"Which means we're off soon," Alistair said, his tone matter-of-fact.

"I am willing to offer my skills to this hunt," Eldrin said, his voice carrying the formal cadence of someone making a business proposition. "Long have I stalked animals and monsters in the wilds, and at times, men, too." His expression remained neutral, but something cold flickered in his eyes. "Valdrik is a man who's caused a great deal of pain. While my score with him isn't personal, I see his threat clearly and am willing to do my part to stop it."

He paused, his gaze moving between Alistair, Justin, and Lila.

"I'm not currently under your employ, but if we can come to a beneficial arrangement befitting someone of my skills and caliber..." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And I'm allowed to choose whom I work with, then you won't find a more able Ranger or Field Synthesist in all of Serenthel."

Templar Tiffany's eyebrows shot up, genuine surprise crossing her features. "A Field Synthesist? An Advanced Class?" Her tone carried new respect.

Eldrin nodded. "I earned my Ranger's legacy years ago and recently completed my Ranger's progression and passed my Advanced Class Trial. Indeed, given my affinity for potions and poisons, I already met all the requirements. My arrows are never just arrows; they're delivery systems for whatever venom the situation demands. And for my allies, I know more than enough to keep most adventurers on their feet."

She studied him for a long moment, reassessing. "Very well. Let's discuss terms before you leave." She turned her attention to Justin. "The High Priest will want to involve you directly in the hunt, given your... unique skills. Whether he'll send you three after Valdrik's mansion in Silverton or Blackwood's estates in the Northwood remains to be seen. In either case, you have his blessing to use the Belmoran Gate to return to Mont Elea promptly."

"And after that?" Justin asked. "Do we have permission to use the gates properly?"

"That's for the High Priest to decide," Tiffany said. "The gates are a closely guarded secret of our order, but by ill fate, we are hardly the only ones who use them. They are dangerous—even for us—to truly claim as our own."

"Dangerous?" Justin leaned forward slightly. "Who else is using them to the point where even Paladins would be afraid?"

Tiffany's expression turned almost grave. "There are those who walk the Aetherion who have accomplished what many others have not. Those like Blackwood, who, through cunning or treachery, have managed to reach the level cap of forty." She paused, letting that sink in. "But beyond them, more rarely, are those who have done the impossible... like you, Justin... acquired a Prismatic Core and ascended to fifty, leaving mortality behind."

"Ascendant-rank beings," Alistair said quietly. "Like Belshar, but still in the mortal realm."

"These beings are rare," Tiffany said, "but given their nature, their cunning, and their long lifespans, they tend to... collect over the ages."

"Collect?" Justin asked, not liking where this was going.

"Accumulate," Tiffany clarified. "Most die eventually. Ascendant doesn't mean they can't be killed, though most no longer age. But enough survive that you'll find dozens, perhaps hundreds, scattered across Eyrth, and they all know about the waygates." Tiffany met his eyes directly. "The Templars have documented quite a few of these individuals over the centuries. However, catching them is an entirely different matter from knowing they exist. Not all are evil, of course, and our numbers are the only thing that keep the worse offenders from dominating us. There is a tendency for higher-level beings to reach such power only through treachery or mass death events."

"Necromancers," Eldrin said flatly.

"Often, yes," Tiffany confirmed. "I don't want to make it sound like it's easy to run into one of these beings using the waygates. The chances are slim, but these beings do use them when they have dire needs. Even they know to stay wary, lest they encounter a rival unexpectedly." She let that image settle. "Be cautious of the waygates, Justin Talemaker. There is a saying among the Templars: every journey through them may be your last. Only use them when speed is essential." She paused meaningfully. "Though the crossing takes but a breath through the Tower of Passage, in those mere seconds, you may encounter a truly powerful entity who can do things to you far worse than death."

A heavy silence followed these words.

Lila started to speak, clearly about to reference their previous journey through the gates, then caught herself. Obviously, revealing that Justin, Eldrin, and she had already used the gates without authorization would not be wise in front of Tiffany.

And to think he'd wanted to use them casually for his business! The idea now seemed laughably naive.

"What is the Tower of Passage?" Justin asked, eager to move past the awkward moment.

"It is the focal point of most waygates on Eyrth," Tiffany said smoothly. "A nexus where the pathways converge in a circle of twenty-four. But that's not the object of this meeting." She straightened, her tone becoming businesslike again. "The object is for you three to make your way to Mont Elea with all speed for your audience with the High Priest. Lila Fairwind will remain here, operating Summon & Supply at the behest of the Templar Order."

Lila made no visible movement, but Justin caught the slightest tightening around her eyes with his Insightful Gaze. Staying here would not offer the complete freedom she had envisioned. The business was too enmeshed with the Templars now to ever truly be independent.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Would she resent that eventually? He hoped not. But the seed was there, whether Tiffany realized it or not.

"When do we start?" Justin asked. "I thought the Queen wanted to formally recognize us first."

"All that must wait, if it happens at all." Tiffany's tone brooked no argument. "I spoke with Her Majesty this morning about the danger of letting Valdrik's trail run cold. She was in complete agreement that speed takes priority over ceremony."

"Wait," Justin said, processing this. "We're actually chasing after him to find him? We'll have backup, right?"

"Naturally," Tiffany said. "I will also be present, in accordance with the High Priest's orders. However, I highly doubt Valdrik is foolish enough to hole up in his mansion. He is almost certainly going to abscond to a hidden location somewhere—previously prepared, no doubt. Necromancers... the smart ones, anyway... are always ready to abandon their previous lives at a moment's notice and start over elsewhere. Our research into his past, as fragmented as it is, has proved illuminating."

"His past?" Justin asked, curiosity piqued.

Tiffany shook her head slightly. "You'll find out more soon enough. We are to make our way to Mont Elea with all speed."

Justin sighed. "I was looking forward to being properly recognized for my brave deeds for once."

"For once?" Lila asked, amusement coloring her voice. "Rinna was telling me that Bards are already competing to write songs in your honor. Apparently, there's some debate about whether you rode Atlas into battle against the Lich or fought on foot."

Justin adjusted his coat. "Are they, now? Well, I did give them some excellent material to work with."

Internally, Justin regretted leaving the city so soon. This was the perfect time to capitalize on his legend and fan the flames of his reputation. The Hero of Belmora would probably grow to Regional tier on its own momentum, but with his help and Legendary Ascension working in the background, it could easily reach Continental in record time.

But alas, it seemed his next move was to go out and make even more legends elsewhere.

He was genuinely curious about Valdrik's past. He knew the count was from Bulgaria on Earth, that he had a wife and daughter—Elena and Irina.

But what happened after he arrived on Eyrth? What did the Templars know about him? Did they already know his secret, or had they just started digging into his history when he became a person of interest?

"As for logistics," Tiffany continued, "pack your things and meet by the Gulf Gate in one hour. That should give ample time for preparation and goodbyes."

They took their leave and returned to the store in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Only Eldrin remained behind, presumably to negotiate his pay, with a promise to meet Alistair and Justin at the Gulf Gate.

It was surprisingly fast for Justin to pack his gear. Truth be told, he hadn't unpacked much out of habit—a holdover from always being ready to move on at a moment's notice. Even his gold-tier pack's expanded space was getting uncomfortably tight, crammed with potions, spare clothing, emergency supplies, and the various odds and ends an adventurer accumulated that he hadn't had time to sell.

Within minutes, he was back downstairs to find everyone waiting. Even Rinna had emerged from her workshop, along with Ardabel, whose fingers were stained with ingredients.

Justin decided to just get into it. "Ilsa has been promoted to general manager. She's in charge here when Lila isn't around." He looked at Ilsa, noting that she was already Level 0 in her new Scholar class. If he knew anything about her work ethic, she'd probably be Level 3 or 4 by next week. "I have full confidence in her abilities."

As the team congratulated her, Ilsa stepped forward. She looked uncomfortable with the attention but composed.

"I'm not one for speeches," she said. "Not like Mr. Talemaker." A few chuckles rippled through the group. "But I'm honored to take on this role. If you need anything—guidance, resources, or simply someone to listen—come to me. We'll make this work together."

"If you don't mind me saying, Mr. Talemaker," Tammy piped up, wringing her hands slightly, "it looks like you and Lord Alistair are going on a long journey."

"I am leaving," Justin confirmed. "I'm not sure for how long. It's business related to this Cult you've been hearing so much about. Unseemly stuff, dangerous work, but apparently, they think I'm the man for it."

"Well, you can hardly blame them after yesterday!" Rinna said enthusiastically. "You're the Hero of Belmora!"

"Maybe so," Justin admitted with a wry smile. "Either way, I'm off for what could be a long time. I'm still co-owner with Lila, but she'll be staying to ensure things keep running smoothly." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Launching this venture and giving it a strong foundation was my wheelhouse, and that work is largely done. I'll stop by from time to time when I can, and who knows..." He considered for a moment. "I may end up coming back for good someday. But I suspect not. Time has a way of changing things. Even a month or two makes a big difference."

He looked at each of them in turn, meeting their eyes.

"But speaking of time... I can't stay long. I just want to thank all of you for everything you've done to make this business great. For sticking with us through thick and thin." His voice grew stronger. "I'm afraid the troubles in Belmora are likely not over, but you have Lila here, the Templars nearby keeping an eye on things, and the eternal gratitude of the Queen herself. If that's not good for business, I don't know what is."

He paused, his voice softening.

"More than that, you have each other. You're a team now. And if not a family, close enough. That's worth more than any amount of gold."

He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Just keep doing what you're doing. Build the business, let it prosper, and reap the rewards. That's the whole point of it, right? Profit and riches."

Alistair shifted slightly on his feet at the mercenary phrasing but said nothing.

"Well," Justin said, glancing at the clock on the wall, "we have half an hour left."

One by one, Justin embraced each of them. They thanked him—not for banishing the Lich, as everyone else in the city would, but for something far more personal.

For giving them all a second chance.

Ilsa was first. She pulled back from the hug and met his eyes directly.

"Don't do anything stupid," she said. "You have a lot of... energy. Try to contain it sometimes." Her lips quirked slightly. "But let your light shine when it matters most."

Justin nodded, throat tight. "You're going to do great, Ilsa. Better than I ever could have."

"I learned from the best," she said simply.

Rinna was next, practically bouncing on her toes despite the somber occasion.

"I'm sad you won't be here to see everything we're going to accomplish. I've got so many ideas, and by the time you come back... if you come back... they might be beyond explaining. New techniques, stability improvements, blended enchantments—"

"I hope I don't understand it," Justin interrupted with a gentle smile, "because I can barely grasp what you're already doing." He noted that her level was already 11. Whatever experiments she was running, the System was clearly impressed. "Just promise me one thing: don't let someone else poach you."

Rinna's expression turned fierce. "I'd rather die, Mr. Talemaker. This is my home now."

When he reached Ardabel, the Alchemist stood straighter for a moment before relaxing slightly. Justin extended his hand, and Ardabel took it in a firm grip.

"I know your contract is almost up," Justin said, "but I hope you choose to stay. We need good people here, and you've more than proven yourself."

Ardabel's weathered face was thoughtful. "We'll see, Mr. Talemaker. Best of luck out there." He paused, then shook his head with something almost like disbelief. "I still can't get over that you truly worked with the Templars this whole time. That you... did what you did."

"Everyone has hidden depths, as they say," Justin said with a slight smile. "But I'm still the same old Justin underneath all this." He gestured to his new mythic coat and cane.

Ardabel's lips quirked. "The same old Justin who banished a Level 50 Lich. Sure."

"Fair point," Justin admitted with a laugh.

They clasped hands once more, and Justin moved on.

Tammy was next. The older woman's eyes were already watery as she pulled him into a motherly embrace.

"Don't forget to eat out there," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I know you adventurer types—always rushing around and living off tavern grub and ale. Take care of yourself." She pulled back, cupping his face briefly. "There will always be a full plate waiting for you whenever you come by. Always."

"I'm going to miss your food terribly," Justin said, his voice breaking slightly. "But I'll miss you far more."

The last of his employees was Rita. The quiet woman stepped forward and, in her soft, stilted accent, said two words:

"Thank you."

Justin's eyes were already watery. He pulled her into a brief hug. "You're welcome, Rita. For everything."

Then he came to Lila. He'd promised himself he wouldn't cry for this one and mostly managed it—though his eyes definitely stung.

"Go on to the gate," she said, pulling him in one last time. "The others are waiting."

He felt his pack shifting slightly—new weight being added.

"I just put some potions in there for you," she explained. "And a note explaining what each one does. They're not half of what I'll be capable of as my skills increase, but they'll have to do for now."

"Thanks," he managed. "The road will be a lot lonelier without you."

"I know," she said softly. "We're just traveling different paths for a while. We'll meet again."

"Don't touch my bed."

She laughed. "Oh, too late for that. It's moving out the minute you're gone."

"Figures." He pulled back, holding her at arm's length for one last look. "Take care of yourself. Build something amazing."

"You too, Justin."

As Alistair finished his own goodbyes, Justin noticed that Pallas wasn't present, along with a couple of other couriers who seemed to have been hired in his absence.

"Send Pallas and the rest my best," Justin called out.

And then they were finally off, threading through the familiar streets of Belmora.

When he was recognized—and it happened frequently now, the Living Legend with the midnight blue coat, glowing silver cane, and enchanted monocle impossible to miss—Justin just offered a smile and a wave but didn't linger. There wasn't time, and besides, he'd have to trust his new legend would grow without him tending it personally. At least the adoring fan had moved on, despite his words.

They moved past the bustle of Belmora Bridge, close to where he'd first entered the city with Lila and Alistair at his side, nervous and overwhelmed. The din of peddlers and merchants was just background noise now. He'd learned to tune it out. The Marin flowed dark and murky beneath the stone arches, the same river where Blithe's barge had once transported its grim cargo.

They passed through the wealthier Golden District, past the fountain before the Golden Aurelius, which stood across from the high Aurelian Tower. Ardabel's old potions shop was already purchased and displaying enchanted clothing, while Aliendro's Enchantry was doing a thriving trade. Every corner seemed to hold a memory now.

Part of him half-hoped that by some miracle, Lila would chase after him—the same way she had on the day they met, breathlessly offering her services as a bodyguard. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Two and a half silvers. That's what he'd agreed to pay her for the journey to Silverton.

Now she co-owned a thriving business and had a knighthood to boot.

When he glanced back one final time before turning onto a less crowded street, there was no sign of her.

"Well," Alistair finally said, his voice breaking Justin from his melancholy. "Everything has come full circle now, though the circumstances vastly differ."

Justin wasn't sure what he meant until he realized the Paladin was referring to their first meeting on the road to Mistwatch. Justin, a Level 0 Socialite who had just absorbed his Prismatic Core and didn't even have a cane to show for it. And Alistair, the Level 25 Paladin on his way to Silverton to investigate the disappearances there, though Justin hadn't known about that mission then, or much of anything, really.

"Differ is an understatement," Justin said with a hollow laugh.

"Change is hard," Alistair said. "When you reach my age, the number of goodbyes to old friends far exceeds your count of current ones, if you catch my meaning. Such is the nature of life."

"You're not even old, though," Justin said.

"Forty-two," Alistair said. "Old enough to know a few things, I should hope."

"I'll see her again, I'm certain," Justin said, though his voice lacked conviction. "It'll just be..."

"...different?" Alistair finished gently. "Aye, that it will be. But different isn't always a bad thing, Justin." He placed a gauntleted hand briefly on Justin's shoulder. "The key is to remain open to the path the gods have set before you. There will be new friends, new revelations, new adventures yet to come. The road doesn't end here."

"Adventures seem like a positive spin on what we're about to do," Justin said. "But I suppose everything that's happened so far... perhaps it was to prepare me for what's to come."

"The gods have tested you mightily," Alistair agreed. "I've always had a feeling there was more to you than met the eye. Something beyond even the secret you carry." He chose his words carefully. "Not destiny, exactly—the gods don't work quite so simply as the Bards would have us believe. But sometimes someone comes along that one of the Six has chosen, or perhaps even the Creator Himself, to be a... catalyst for change. It's no guarantee of success, of course. But events and people tend to shape themselves around that person, drawn by an invisible gravity."

Alistair paused, glancing around to ensure no one was close enough to overhear.

"There are some scholars who say that's the true nature of the Charisma attribute at its highest expressions. A certain metaphysical weight that bends the Aetherion itself. And with two of those... things you carry..." Alistair didn't dare name the Prismatic Cores, even on this relatively deserted side street. "The resonance of your presence vibrates at an even higher frequency than most. People are drawn to you. Stories form around you. Events converge." He met Justin's eyes. "Whether you want it or not."

Justin didn't like the sound of that. He could already hear Asharlok's voice in his head, taunting him with, "Golden Boy."

"I don't know about all that philosophical stuff," Justin said, adjusting his pack's straps. "But I catch your drift."

They turned a corner into the main thoroughfare, now well past the Royal Palace where Justin had thought his morning would lead him. At the end of the broad avenue stood the massive Gulf Gate, its twin pillars of white stone rising thirty feet high and inscribed with protective enchantments that glowed faintly even in daylight.

There, Justin could already see two figures waiting: Templar Tiffany in her white and gold armor, Eldrin in his new color-shifting gear, and—

His heart skipped.

Myrelle stood beside the Templar, dressed in her Platinum-tier adventuring dress—the one with pink sapphire accents that matched her parasol. Her auburn hair was pulled back for travel, and even from this distance, he could see she'd come prepared for a journey. A pink-feathered handbag sat at her feet, glowing with enchantment, with boots that matched the dress.

She wasn't just here to see them off. She was coming.

"Myrelle?" Justin asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

"Sorry for not mentioning it," Alistair said, and Justin caught the faintest hint of a smile beneath the Paladin's usually stoic expression. "She'll accompany us on the journey to Mont Elea. The High Priest specifically requested her presence as well. As for what comes after that audience?" He shrugged. "Even I can't say. That will be her choice to make."

Justin felt something lift in his chest—not quite filling the Lila-shaped hole, but easing it somewhat.

"We'll have to do something about the pink," Justin muttered. "Monsters will see that from a mile away."

Alistair looked at him, taking in his fancy coat and cane. "As if you're one to talk."

"Fair enough," Justin said. He was certain a clothing set of that caliber had the ability to change colors, anyway.

"Well met, Justin," Myrelle said, straightening as he approached. "And before you ask, the pink stays, at least in settled lands." She considered a moment. "Or purple, if I fancy that."

Justin smiled. "Wouldn't dream of asking you to change." He gestured to his own midnight blue coat and silver cane. "Apparently, subtlety is no longer in my repertoire, either."

"Good," Myrelle said, her expression softening slightly. "I was worried you'd try to make me dress like a Ranger. All browns and greens and grays."

"Never," Justin said.

Eldrin remained focused on checking his own gear, all business, not seeming to mind the comment.

"Are we all ready?" Tiffany asked.

Justin straightened his coat and adjusted his top hat. "Ready."

"I have a boat prepared that will get us to the gate a bit faster. We should be in Mont Elea by evening."

"The docks are back in the city," Justin said.

"This isn't inside the city. It's a coastal fishing village just three miles up the coast. Come on. Daylight's wasting."

Tiffany set off at a brisk pace down the Gulfway, with Eldrin and Alistair falling in beside her.

"Let's not get left behind," Myrelle said quietly.

Justin sighed. "Walking. We really need to get them mounts."

He hurried to catch up.

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