It would be nice, thought Sergeant Lyra, if the priestess hadn't made her niece the commander of the acolyte force to suppress the involuntary transformations taking place in Lavanguard. It would also be nice if her niece wasn't a complete idiot. Walking into the enemy stronghold with no backup, thinking that her amulet made her immune to everything rather than just the stone and the witch's magic, and then actually accepting a drink (Lyra had watched from a window.) Probably best to tell her aunt that she had disappeared and let her see if being a stable boy was more suited to her intellect.
The rest of the acolytes were following the teleportation trail the witch had left, but Lyra and her partner Yvana, two of the most experienced acolytes, stayed behind to, to quote Lyra, "get the goddessdamned rock or get turned into chamberpots."
The two worked out a plan. Lyra walked in with Yvana pressed to the wall out of the line of sight from either the door or any of the windows. When the barmaid came to ask Lyra what she wanted the veteran acolyte grabbed her arm and pulled her over the bar. She screamed, which is pretty much what Lyra wanted.
Everything depended on what the innkeeper did. Would he come out to investigate, in which case Lyra was confident she could take him down, or would he try to go out the back?
A quiet strangled cry indicated that it had been the back. Yvana came in through the back door, dragging an unconscious innkeeper and holding the rock with an expression of triumph on her face. "Got it, Sarge."
Now all we have to do is figure out what to do with these people, Lyra thought. The really annoying thing is that the rock gave them the power to change the commander back, and she would inevitably boast to her aunt that the recovery had been the result of her brilliant planning.