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Ponsin was agitated. It was unlike them to be late like this. Normally they'd have been here in the crowd already. She looked to the executioner to her left, his meaty hand twitching on the lever.

"Any last words, scum?" his voice grumbled from behind the mask.

She snarled, "Did your parents ever hold you as a child, cretin?"

The lever was pulled and the floor dropped from beneath her. The crowd gasped as she hung there, unmoving, seemingly suspended in midair. Ponsin looked up and addressed the crowd: "I am the mighty sorceress Yllmesa! Bow before me, and grant me safe passage out of your wretched city!"

She knew her time was limited. She had to lie and play every card she had until her companions could reach her. Ponsin clung to the little iron button in her pocket that held her aloft.

As if by cue, a bolt of lightning lashed out from above, severing the noose hanging around Ponsin's neck. The crowd broke, scattering in a sudden panic. From the corner of her eye she saw a wizard, hand outstretched and gasping for breath on a neighboring rooftop. Her other two party members came up beside him, recognized her situation, and began their hastened descent down to the alley.

With a slight exhale, Ponsin began to relax again. "Late." she repeated to herself.

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