The double moons shone red and blue over the cut-out black shapes of the buildings.

"Teige," Hawk said thickly, and helped him sit up. "Hey Teige. Y'okay?"

The triple shadows of the assailants were rushing away through the archway of the gallery. The figures that had emerged from the light behind Hawk and Teige--one with a tail, one gripping a triangular knife, one a dog-shaped creature--were now standing at the edge of the illumination, shouting and laughing after the retreating shadows. The little floating lights that had gone red at the disturbance were now slowing back down, their tones cooling back to a pale orange.

Teige stared. "T' hell was t'at."

"Dunno." Hawk squinted into the darkness, crouched at Teige's shoulder. "Think there were three of 'em. Slavers I guess."

"Those were not slavers."

Their rescuers were coming back into the light. The one with the tail was enthusiastically praising the dog-shaped animal, who repeated the praise back to them exactly. The other was a spirit with short hair and a wedge-shaped nose, wearing a long apron.

They bent, using the hand that didn't still have a knife in it to retrieve the gleaming blade that one of the assailants had dropped in their retreat. It caught the light and shone.

"I think you just ran into whoever left that tag," they said.