Martin dared to peek out past his arm and saw the tiny army of shapes moving toward him. His breath hitched, then started up in panicked gasps, his body curling tighter until it hurt too much. He twisted out of his hunched-up state, palms smacking at the ground and the wall behind him to find his bearings and a means to his feet.

They were bigger than him, and they were going to kill him because he looked like a monster. That's all there was to it. His eyes darted around and up again, desperate for escape. It's too high!

But he had to get away.

He went up, launched by conjuring directly at the ground, and scrambled, clawing at the high wall until he could hang on long enough to plant his feet. Another lance sent him soaring over and past the trio to a heavy landing beyond, giving him open space to run. The weapon was dust raining down on them as he fled.