The little troop had been so preoccupied with Mike's problem that they failed to notice a group of renegade orcs and men surrounding them.
"Za-zoom!" cried a ramshackled shaman activating the charm mounted on his staff. Silver glittery sparks enveloped the party, and they were frozen in place.
"Zzzzzbrrrkkk!"mumbled Christine unable to open her mouth or move her jaw.
"Cnnn nnnebddee muv?" queried Christine her hands inches from the magic weapons in her pouch.
"Mmm mddk wunt wmmeerc" trying to say my magic won't work.
The others tongues were frozen, so all they could do was stare like statues as the orcs descended upon them.
They were unceremoniously stripped and manacled with enchanted irons.
"Aarak zoom!" the shaman incanted and lowered his staff. They could move, but the enchantment of the irons was working. They had to obey their masters.
"So another group of adventurers off to wage war on the Orcs?" the leader asked.
"Yesh, mast-uh" answered Mike not believing his own ears.
"Looks like this one crossed the wizard. He's another one I'd like to get my hands on. Don't no why orcs and humans cannot get along like our merry little band does. Eh, boys?"
A rousing cheer came up from the men.
"So what's the spell witch?" he asked Christine.
"The farther we get from the stables, the more he becomes like a horse."
"Good by the time we get to Burytown, we should have a handsome piece of horseflesh to sell in addition to some rather pathetic slaves. That wizard makes the best horses. Mare or stallion? Doesn't really matter, the people in Burytown love their horseflesh roasted."
Mike was horrified he hadn't considered until now that he might become the Belgian filly that he'd turned the stable boy into.
A minute later, his mouth dropped. "Roasted!"
"Slaves don't speak unless spoken to," the shaman said whacking his nose with his staff.
"Sorry, sir, won't happen again."
"In a mile or so, probably won't be possibly, heh, heh," cackled someone behind him, possibly the shaman.
They started marching along the road away from the stables.
Mike had an increasing urge to drop to all fours. His fingers had half fused in to hooves, and his feet had shifted into hooves completely.