Elsewhere, the speeding stagecoach continued down the street at a break-neck pace, leaving the merchant district and making its way toward the edge of the city. Inside, Elizabeth confronted her captor with all the diplomatic grace you would expect from a frightened teenager.

“You brute! Just where do you think you're taking me?”

“Be still, Your Highness,” the man in the cloak said gravely. “This will all be over soon enough.”

“You won't get away with this, coward. My guards will find me, and they will punish you for this treasonous act.”

“No, Your Highness, I'm afraid your guards will not be coming for you this time...”

His words trailed off as he looked quizzically out the back window.

“What in the world...?”

Elizabeth turned to look as well, and matched his puzzled expression. They could just make out a figure in the distance giving chase, kicking up clouds of dust in its wake. Despite the horses being at a full gallop, the figure was gaining on them quickly. As the gap closed, they could see, and unfortunately hear, Deejay singing about being called Mister Fahrenheit and making a super-sonic woman of someone.

“What sort of bizarre witchcraft is this?” The cloaked man shook his head.

Elizabeth had a flash of recognition. “That strange young man from earlier?”

The cloaked man turned and grabbed Elizabeth by the wrist again, pulling her toward the front of the coach.

“You are coming with me.”

“Unhand me!” She growled and squirmed in vain. “Argh! This is becoming very tiresome.”

Moments later, Deejay caught up to the stagecoach and started running alongside it. He shouted up to the driver.

“Hey, pal! Where's the fire?!”

The driver gave a worried look over his shoulder but didn't respond. The coach was picking up its pace, but Deejay kept up with no trouble.

“Stop the cart and let's talk about this like civilized people!” Still no response. The driver urged the horses onward. “I'm not gonna ask nicely again! Stop!”

The driver glanced back again, then pulled the reigns and the coach suddenly veered toward Deejay, almost hitting him. He jumped back and narrowly avoided colliding with a wall.

“Fine! We'll do this the hard way.”

Deejay jumped onto the stagecoach and clung to the side. He grabbed the door handle but it wouldn't budge. Undeterred, he tightly gripped the top edge of the coach and braced himself. His drew in quick sharp breaths, and his heart pounded rapidly. Once he was feeling sufficiently psyched up, he swung his foot back and kicked the door, aiming just below the handle. The door was securely bolted at the top and bottom, preventing it from being easily battered down. Instead, the force of his kick smashed the whole handle clear off the door, leaving a large splintered hole where the handle once was. Deejay peered inside.

“Heeere's Johnny!”

Mercifully, there was no one in the coach to experience that. Deejay found it empty.

“...The hell?” He quickly hoisted himself up on top of the coach and looked toward the driver. One of the horses was missing. “Aw, come on.”

He leaped forward onto the stage and roughly grabbed the driver by the collar.

“Which way'd they go?” he demanded, his voice only a little shaky.

“You're too late. You will never catch them now.”

“Watch me!”

Deejay turned and flung himself off the stage, nimbly grabbed onto a nearby flagpole and swung himself up onto the roof of a nearby building. He broke into a run and jumped across a gap to an adjacent roof, then another and another, until he was atop a church with a tall steeple at the front. He scrambled up the steeple with ease, swung himself up and perched on the top, taking only a moment to catch his breath.

“Whew... I hope somebody saw that. It felt pretty bad-ass.”

No one did. And it wasn't.

...Okay, that's not entirely fair. It probably wasn't. I think I have an obligation to point out that since nobody else was there to witness any of this, I kind of have to take Deejay's version of events on this part. He can be pretty athletic when he wants to be, so I'm not going to say it definitely couldn't have happened that way. I'm just saying we have to take his word for it that the whole thing wasn't much more cartoonish and awkward-looking than how he described it to me.

Anyway, as he looked down on the city below, he could just make out a horse galloping down an alleyway. Elizabeth's bright white dress stood out against the increasingly dreary surroundings as they entered the peasants' district.

“Man, don't I feel like the valiant knight today? Hang in there, my fair princess. I'm coming for you.”

...Sorry, give me a second. I think I threw up in my mouth a little there.