His thoughts were interrupted as he ran across the bridges that had been lowered over the hairs, bridging the gaps between the specialized military harbours that were in disuse over the winter. He skidded to a halt halfway across the second of the five bridges, the brothel barely within sight in the distance. In front of him, emerging from behind a red-painted warehouse was a contingent of halberd-wielding city guard, flanked by the one remaining Black Guard, who glowered at Handy. Or he imagined he did, as the pony wore a full face helm. Above, three pegasi hovered, cumbersome crossbows held in their hoofy grasp, large trigger guards accommodating their hooves. At the head of the contingent stood Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dumb.