Soon, Artemis had caught up with Altostratus’s slipstream. It was easy to see where they were going: the cliff on the edge of town, covered with dozens of thralls. A few were working on something halfway up — removing rocks from a mine, it looked like? — but most of them were diving down a path at the four guards that made up Sword’s group, fighting at the base of the path. The guards were slicing through thralls with far more ease than the weapons should’ve given. Maybe it had something to do with their silver. But for every one they cut down, five more took its place. Even as she watched, an earth pony was pulled down and swamped.